


He Says He Loves Me

by reflectionsofalex



Series: Showing Symptoms [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alphyne, Angst, Badster, Child Abuse, Dadster, Disabled Characters, F/F, Family, Friendship, Gen, High School AU, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Medical Experimentation, Mettaton uses they/them, Physical Abuse, Sans Has Issues, Slow Burn, frisk uses they/them, gaster is kind of a dick, psychological abuse, sansby - Freeform, updates regularly (at least that's the hope)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2019-10-02 07:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reflectionsofalex/pseuds/reflectionsofalex
Summary: In all honesty, the pain should mean nothing, right? Every moment of suffering saved countless lives, so Sans should have no reason to complain, right? His father was doing this out of love… right?





	1. Welcome to Snowdin

Sans was contemplating probability. From the Big Bang to the birth of the sun to Cleopatra to now, everything that has happened in the universe happened by chance, by an imperceptible role of the dice. Sans didn’t believe in a god or in fate, he believed in the random nature of the fabric of reality. It was times like this, however, that made him wonder if there was, in fact, a polydimensional being that justified his actions with gentle sprinkles of positivity.

“Can you believe it, Pap? It’s snowy!” A grin started to form on his lips as Sans’s brother looked at him in confusion from the passenger seat.

“Sans, I do like snow, but it snowed in Colorado, too. It’s not that interesting,” Papyrus stated, matter-of-fact. 

Sans chortled. “Yeah, but this town is called Snowdin. Like we’re snowed in. And it’s snowy outside. We are living in a giant pun!” Cackling, he pulled into the elementary school parking lot as Papyrus let out a large groan.

“Sans! Stop ruining this exciting new town with your crummy jokes!” 

The older brother waggled his eyebrows as Papyrus shook his head, scoffing. The nine-year-old turned around and leaned towards the back seat to grab his bright orange backpack and lunchbox. He started to climb out of the car, then turned to look back.

“Sans… what if they don’t like me?” 

Sans hesitated for a moment before letting out a dramatic gasp. “Where on Earth did that thought come from? You, little brother, are the greatest person who has ever lived, what reason would there be for someone to not love you?” Papyrus giggled, and Sans’s face softened. 

“Seriously, bro. It’ll be fine. You’re super nice, and friendly, and fun -- what’s not to love? You’ll be the most popular kid in school by lunchtime!” Papyrus smiled, then lunged over the center console to give his brother a half-hug. Sans squeezed back, then ruffled his corkscrew hair.

“I love you, bud.”

“Love you too, Sans!” With that, Papyrus took off towards the playground. Sans smiled as he watched him run to the hundreds of other screaming kids, then shifted into drive after an angry honk from a car behind him.

“Alright, alright, I’m going.”

The drive from Snowdin Elementary to Snowdin High was only a few minutes, and Sans spent it in silence. He wasn’t looking forward to starting at a new school per se, but he was open to the fresh start one often experiences when living in a new town. Luckily, they had moved right at the end of Winter Break, so Sans had been able to get his schedule and a tour of the school beforehand. First period was biology. Sans was a little annoyed that there wasn’t a physical science class option for Juniors, but he supposed life science was interesting as well. Walking into the classroom, the dark-skinned teen unceremoniously dumped his messenger bag on the first empty table he saw, then surveyed the area. The teacher was currently sitting at her desk on her computer, most likely spending her last few minutes of freedom on Twitter. Clumps of students dotted the room, groups of friends reuniting and discussing how Hanukkah and Kwanzaa and Christmas went in their respective families. Quickly enough, the bell rang, and the students lumbered into their seats. The teacher -- Mrs. Owens? -- took attendance and glanced at Sans only half a second longer than the rest of the teenagers.

“Alright guys, get into your groups and start counting your duckweed,” Mrs. Owens stated in a voice that was one part condescending and two parts monotonous. Sans awkwardly watched as chairs screeched backwards and the air once again filled with chatter. 

“Sans Roman?” Her raised eyebrows received a nod. “We’re currently studying eutrophication. Alice is working alone, you can partner up with her. She’s sitting over there in the yellow headband.” With that, the brunette woman went back to her computer. Well then.

Sans slowly walked over to Alice, a short, stout blonde who was using tweezers to count tiny green plants floating in a cup of water. 

“Um, hey,” he started. 

Alice jumped, looked at him with wide eyes, then adjusted her glasses. “Oh! Uh, h-hi. Are you new here? Um, I-I’m Alice,” she stuttered. For a moment, Sans considered sighing at the prospect of an awkward 40 minutes with this girl. Instead, he gave a patient smile. 

“Yeah. Sans Roman, I moved here from Colorado.” He stuck his hand out, but Alice didn’t seem to notice.

“That’s an odd name.” She gasped when she realized what she had just said. “U-um, I-I mean, uh-” Sans cut her off with a chuckle.

“Heh, it’s okay, I know. My mom’s last name was Roman and my dad’s is Aster, so I guess they thought it’d be funny to keep the font thing going with me and my little brother, Papyrus.” Sans sat down in the stool next to her, sneaking a look at the hundreds of tiny Duckweed plants in the styrofoam cup. Alice seemed to relax a bit when she saw her blunt statement hadn’t offended the other teen.

“Oh that’s interesting.” Picking up the tweezers again, Alice continued, “S-so, how do you like Snowdin so far?”

“I like the name.”

Alice giggled. “Yeah, I’ve heard a lifetime’s worth of jokes about it. Especially in the Winter.” The small talk continued until all the duckweed had been counted and Mrs. Owens called the class back to their seats to read a section of their textbooks. Sans couldn’t keep the small smile off his face. It was nice, exchanging jokes and stories with Alice. Maybe they would even be friends.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully, for which Sans was grateful. Juniors and seniors were allowed to go off campus for lunch, so he ate the food he’d packed earlier that morning in his car. There was a note sitting on top of his peanut butter sandwich, one that simply read, “I love you.” Sans glanced at it for half a second, then crumbled it up and threw it into the parking lot. None of his classes after biology were noteworthy -- he managed to nap through half of precalculus. By the time the final bell rang at the end of eighth period, Sans was itching to see Papyrus again and praying his brother had a good day. Papyrus was a truly amazing kid; he was very bright, energetic, and the kindest person Sans had ever known. He had trouble fitting in at times -- Papyrus loved routine, and sometimes got into a fit when his schedule was interrupted. That, along with his chronic optimism, made some kids label him as weird.

Sans gunned it at a yellow light, then pulled up to Papyrus’s building. Short kids dressed in many bright colors ran out the open doors as Sans scanned the crowd for his brother’s telltale red scarf. Soon enough, Papyrus’s face appeared, and it seemed as if he was walking with two other kids. Sans rolled window down.

“Hey Pap! Who’ve you got there?” 

“These are my new friends!” cried Papyrus. “This is Frisk, and they said they’re not a girl or a boy.” He excitedly gestured towards a kid with olive skin. “And this is Mike. He has a pro... pros… pros-the-tic arm! Isn’t that so cool?”

Sans grinned. “That’s super cool. Well, Frisk, Mike, I’m glad you three are friends, but if you’ll excuse us, Paps and I really need to be getting home.” To Sans’s surprise, Papyrus hugged his friends. Huh. Usually Papyrus was not a fan of being touched by people.

“Bye, see you tomorrow!” Papyrus waved as he climbed into the warm car. He continued to wave as Sans rolled up the window and pulled out onto the street, then looked at his older brother, face flushed with excitement. 

“Do you like my friends, Sans? They are both super nice! I met Frisk in P.E. when the teacher tried to sort the girls and boys. Frisk said they weren’t either, and that the name the teacher used wasn’t their real name, and the teacher got mad and told them if they couldn’t pick boy or girl they had to sit on the bleachers, so I sat with them! So far they’ve been very determined to do their very best, which is very great. I met Mike at the assembly when big kids like you came and told us how fun sports are! Me and him both want to do volleyball, and we got to talk to a very pretty girl named Udaya. Her hair was red, which of course means she was very great. She even taught us what a ‘suplex’ is! Isn’t that great?”

Sans just smiled, content to listen to his brother ramble on about his day. It sounded like it had gone very well, and he was immensely glad that Papyrus had made some friends. As they drew closer to their new home, though, his smile fell and he felt the familiar creep of anxiety. In a matter of minutes, they arrived at the yellow, ranch-style house. Sans closed the door softly behind himself and Papyrus after they shook the snow off their shoes, and turned to face the kitchen. A tall man leaned on the counter, smiling kindly.

“Hello boys. How was school?”


	2. "Cute Guy"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for medical abuse (for this chapter and every following chapter)

Sans said nothing as Papyrus jumped up and down.

“Dad, it was so awesome! We got to read and learn about the continents, and I made two friends! Oh, can I play volleyball in the fall?” The tall man smiled at his son’s enthusiasm. 

“I’m very glad that you met some other children you can play with. And we will have to see about volleyball when the time comes closer.” Thrilled, Papyrus clapped his hands before untying his shoes and setting them gently on the mat by the door.

“We have a math worksheet that I’m going to go do now, and when I am done I will have a snack.” With that, Papyrus ran down the hall to his room.

“Sans, I trust your day was alright as well?”

“It was fine,” the teen mumbled. His father sighed.

“Must you be so difficult? You know I am doing my utmost to provide for this family. I don’t appreciate your attitude.” Sans bit his lip.

“Sorry Dad. I’m, um, I’m going to go and do homework.” He started down the hall.

“I love you, son.” Sans kept walking.

The short teenager glanced into Papyrus’s room. He was currently sitting in his orange chair at his desk, one pencil in his left hand and two others neatly sitting by his right. Sans smiled at his brother’s diligence before pondering his own lack thereof. Despite what he had said, the sixteen-year-old had no plans of doing homework, at least not for a few hours. Sans sat on his bed, mindlessly playing on his phone until the headache kicked in. It was a little earlier than usual, but that added up to the stress from moving and starting at a new school. 

Soon enough, the dull pain morphed into a throbbing migraine. Sans curled up on his blue checkered bedspread, shivering and nauseous. This happened often enough, but that didn’t mean the pain ever lessened. It was just expected, routine, and it lasted for hours.

By the time the eldest Roman called his sons down for dinner, the pain had dimmed into a mild pressure behind his left eye. Groaning, Sans walked unsteadily down the hallway. Papyrus looked at him from where he sat at the table, head cocked.

“Why are you breathing so hard, Sans?” he gasped suddenly. “Oh wowie, Sans, have you been training? Are you going to play a sport? We could play volleyball together!” Sans chuckled weakly. 

“Sorry Pap, you know I’m no good at sports. I’m just so lazy that walking down the hallway knocked the wind out of me.” Papyrus giggled, and Sans was encouraged. 

“You know, it was probably pretty criminal of me to take a nap instead of doing homework, but I had to get a-rested.” The younger boy furrowed his brow, confused. Sans’s smile grew wider.

“Wha… SANS!” Papyrus yelled as he figured out the pun. “That was so bad!”

“Aw, but bro, you’re smiling! Po-lice tell me you found it a little bit punny.” Papyrus gave a little scream with his mouth shut before putting his forehead on the table and hands over his ears. 

“No more! No more!” Sans snickered before rustling his brother’s hair.

“Okay, okay. I wouldn’t want to overload you with my punderful humor.” Papyrus glared at Sans as their father walked in from the small kitchen.

“Sans, will you please pour the milk?” 

“Sure,” he mumbled, walking slowly into the kitchen.

“Thank you. And Papyrus, would you please get silverware?”

“Yep!” sang Papyrus as he jumped out of his seat and bounced into the kitchen.

Dinner was an admittedly delicious quiche. Papyrus talked and talked about his day, receiving amused and amiable responses from Sans and Dr. Roman respectively. The latter two did not speak directly to each other. Sans, still a bit queasy from earlier, struggled through his portion. No one commented on it.

When they were finished, their father put the food away as Papyrus and Sans rinsed the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. The atmosphere was calm, almost pleasant. Sans told a few jokes and Papyrus acted annoyed while hiding a smile. Their father occasionally hummed his feedback, but otherwise said nothing.

At exactly seven o’clock, Papyrus sat in the middle of the couch in the living room and turned the television on to watch a cartoon about a robot. Sans was beckoned to the basement. The teen replaced his clothing with a light, yellow robe and stood on a scale. His father wrote the number down on his clipboard and rattled off routine questions as Sans sat on a cold metal stool.

“How did you feel when you woke up?”

“Normal, no pain.”

“Have you felt any pain today?”

“I had a migraine from about four to six. The prolonged nature was probably due to stress.”

“Have you stuck to your meal plan?”

“Yes.”

“Did you eat and drink only in the allotted times?”

“Yes.”

“Did you notice anything unusual or out of the ordinary?”

“No.”

The doctor then checked his eyes, ears, nose, blood pressure, and heartbeat, writing something down on his clipboard with each examination.

“Your blood pressure is slightly low. Have you noticed any dizziness or felt light-headed?”

“No.”

The man nodded once before opening a drawer and pulling out a glass bottle holding a red substance and a syringe. He filled the syringe with the liquid as Sans pulled up the sleeve of his right arm. The short boy felt a prick in his shoulder and sat calmly through the process, not reacting to the burning sensation of the fluid entering his bloodstream. 

“Do you feel any different now than before the injection?”

“Mild heart palpitations and a minor pain behind my left eye.” Sans’s father jotted down a few more notes before doing the same check-up examinations as earlier. When he was done, he waved his son away.

“Dismissed.”

Sans walked back upstairs, kissed his brother’s head, gulped down some water from the sink, took off his socks, and fell asleep moments after sinking under the covers.

* * *

Sans slowly walked to first period, sucking on a mint he’d stolen from the office. His headache from yesterday afternoon had resurfaced, and he was not looking forward to a day full of people and noise. He subconsciously rubbed his arm, half-heartedly running over excuses for his incomplete homework in his head. Sans wasn’t sure-

“Oof!” Someone who’d been running down the hallway slammed into Sans, knocking the shorter boy to the ground. His textbook, notebook, pencil, and pen clattered onto the floor of the hallway.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. That was my fault.” A faint Scottish accent greeted him. Sans looked up from his awkward position on the floor to see the perpetrator. A tall kid with orange hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose looked at him nervously, before getting up and taking off again down the hallway. Sans stared at his retreating form for a moment before groaning to himself and collecting his things. That was a great way to start off the day.

Sans managed to slide into his seat in biology just as the bell rang. He looked across the room at Alice. The small girl was drawing something on a piece of graph paper, oblivious to her surroundings. Mrs. Owens cleared her throat, and class began.

* * *

By the time fifth period rolled around, Sans was done. His headache had prevailed, and on Tuesdays he and Papyrus were scheduled to come to the lab after school. Fan-fucking-tastic. Sans laid his head down on his desk. He was currently in European History, a subject that he absolutely loathed. The teacher was a man who had to be well past the age of retirement, and who was currently giving a lecture on Catherine the Great. As interesting as her sex life may have been, Sans was not in the mood. When the bell finally rang, he was ready to be the first to leave, but was stopped when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“I am sorry for knocking you down this morning, it was not my intention. I was running late, and had to get going. My apologies,” said the kid with orange hair from earlier. Sans raised an eyebrow.

“Um, it’s cool. Happens all the time.” 

“I’m Sean Bradigan.” Sans shook the proffered hand.

“Sans Roman.” To his surprise, Sean made no comment on his name.

“Oh, so you’re the famous Sans. Alice was talking about how great you are all through lunch yesterday.” 

This stopped Sans short. His eyes widened. “What? Really? Why would she say that?” 

Sean grinned. “Apparently you tell science jokes. That’s enough to get you on Alice’s good side.” 

Sans bit his lip as a warm, happy feeling built up inside him. She likes me. It wasn’t too often that he got a new friend.

“We have an empty seat at our lunch table in the cafeteria,” Sean remarked suddenly. “Why don’t you sit with us? I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” Holy shit. Holy motherfucking actual shit. Cute Guy actually wants to spend time with me? Hmm. ‘Cute Guy.’ Sans would have to unpack that later. Or never.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like that. I just need to stop by my locker to grab my lunch.” 

Sean smiled back. “Great.”

They walked to Sans’s locker in a silence that wasn’t completely awkward, but wasn’t totally comfortable either. Sans usually could rattle off puns like there was no tomorrow, but this situation was entirely new to him. He wasn’t exactly a pro at making friends, unlike Papyrus, so Sean had caught him off guard. In a few moments, Sans had his lunch and they were making their way to the cafeteria. Unsure of where exactly to go, Sans walked a step behind Sean as the taller boy lead him to a table full of teenagers. Sans recognized Alice, who was currently staring at a pretty Indian teen with dyed red hair. Sitting next to her was someone who appeared to be Latinx and had shoulder length black hair with pink highlights. At the end of the table was someone of Asian descent who had blue headphones on and was eating a sandwich with a solemn look on their face. Alice looked up and immediately recognized Sans.

“Oh, Sans, h-hi! Grillby, you d-didn’t tell me you knew him t-too.”

“I just met him last period.” 

Sans looked up at the taller boy questioningly. “Grillby?” 

A pink blush spread across the Scot’s cheeks. “I like to cook,” he muttered. 

Sean -- or “Grillby” -- sat down at the table, Sans hesitantly taking the chair next to him.

“It’s nice to meet you, darling,” began the person wearing boots, “How about we all introduce ourselves? I’m Matteo, and I eat gender roles for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Any pronouns are fine with me.” Matteo’s lips, coated in bright purple lipstick, curled up into a smile.

“My name is Nicolás, but you can call me Nico. He/him pronouns, please,” whispered the boy with the headphones. Matteo wrapped an arm around him. 

“Nico’s my cousin, the sickest dj around!” Nico blushed and looked back down at his sandwich.

The Indian girl spoke next. “I’m Udaya, she/her pronouns. If you fuck with any of us, I’ll kick your ass!” She cackled.

“Wait, Udaya?” asked Sans. “Are you the one who talked to Papyrus about volleyball?” 

The redhead’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I met him yesterday after the sports assembly at the elementary school. Cool kid. You know him?” 

“He’s my little brother. Pap was really excited about meeting you.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” grinned Udaya.

The group of teens continued to talk, creating a light-hearted, comfortable atmosphere. Sans learned that Udaya and Alice were dating, Matteo and Nico had their own web series, and Grillby wanted to go to culinary school. By the end of lunch, Sans had assimilated into the group of friends pretty well, winning them over with his easy smile and affinity for puns. This was the happiest he’d been in months.


	3. Puzzles and Pain (or, A Shocking Development)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New town, new tests.

“Hello you two! Are you here to visit Gus?” It was weird when people used his dad's actual name, and Sans felt slightly sour after hearing it.

“Yes!” cried Papyrus. “He wants Sans to help with his project, so I get to solve puzzles!” The lady at the desk chuckled. The area they were currently standing in was painted a warm red with large windows adorning the walls. It was heated to the point of being stuffy, prompting the two brothers to take off their heavy coats.

“I’m sure you’ll solve them all, sweetie. You guys can go on and head up, I’ll let your dad know you’re coming.” 

“Thanks, Bonnie,” Sans murmured. He took Papyrus’s hand and led him over to the pristine silver elevators, pressing the down arrow. His little brother was bouncing with excitement -- their father kept a cupboard stocked with puzzles and games, and Papyrus loved puzzles. He really loved them. When the elevator doors opened, the brothers stepped aside to let out a woman in a suit and lab coat before entering.

“Can I press the button?” Papyrus asked anxiously. Sans chuckled quietly.

“Go for it, bud.” Papyrus happily poked the round ‘B’ button, and the lift carried them down to the tune of some pop song from the nineties. Sans tapped his fingers together nervously. When the doors opened again, the Roman kids were faced with a hallway. They walked -- well, Sans walked, Papyrus skipped -- past three doors before finally coming upon the one with the label “G. Aster Roman.” Despite his apprehension, Sans smiled a little at the sign. When his brother was learning to read, he had taken an interest his dad’s name tag. He studied it for the better part of a week before Sans had finally given in and asked Papyrus why he was so engrossed with it. The younger gave a frustrated huff and demanded to know why adults called his dad Gus when his name plate clearly said Gaster. As amusing as it was, the nickname stuck and Dr. Roman had been referred to as Gaster by his closer acquaintances ever since. 

Papyrus burst through the door, bringing Sans out of the memory. 

“Dad! We’re here!” he shouted happily. 

Gaster shushed him, but grinned nonetheless. “Hello Papyrus. How was school?”

“Good! Do you have puzzles for me?” 

Gaster put his hand to his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm, puzzles? Let’s see. Maybe… now where would I have put them?” 

Papyrus giggled before pointing behind Gaster’s desk. “There! Where they always are, silllybones!”

“Oh, but of course! How could I have forgotten?” Gaster stood and pulled a blue crate down from the cabinet his son had pointed to and placed it on the floor in the middle of the office. Papyrus clapped his hands in anticipation. In the crate were boxes of jigsaw puzzles, books filled with crosswords and word searches, and paper mazes. Sans watched fondly for a moment before looking up at his father.

“Papyrus, Sans and I are going to go do some important work now. Stay here, alright?” Papyrus hummed in response as Gaster made eye contact with his eldest son and nodded towards the door. Sans felt hot and freezing cold at the same time. They had the same routine back in Colorado, but this was the first time Sans had come to the Snowdin lab for testing, and the mostly unfamiliar environment was off-putting. He stepped out of the room, then followed Gaster, staying a good three paces behind him. The taller man said nothing as he walked into a larger room at the end of the hallway. The room was heavily chilled, feeling as if someone had the air conditioning on even though it was the middle of winter. A counter lined the wall, complete with a sink, box of gloves, file folder, and case of syringes. The floor was made of gray tiles, and the walls lined with soundproofing foam. Gaster gestured towards a chair sitting in the middle of the room. Sans glanced towards it, then back at his father.

“Um, I’m not sure I want to sit there…” 

Gaster looked at him sharply. “You will sit there, Sans.” The two had a stare down for a few moments before the shorter backed down and sat in the chair, grumbling quietly to himself.

“Thank you. Today, we are going to be testing the effects of DT on the heart.”

“I don’t know why you still bother to tell me this,” Sans muttered before yelling out in shock as a cold, gloved hand made harsh contact with his left cheek.

“Don’t talk back to me, Sans. What we are working on could be exponentially helpful to the health of the human race; I will not tolerate your selfish disrespect,” the pale man said, tightening leather straps around his arms and legs. Sans glared, but said nothing as Gaster taped something on his head, something connected to a wire which came from… Oh god, he isn’t--

His body froze for a few seconds before Sans screamed. His muscles contorted as lines of white hot pain shot through him. It felt as if every pain receptor in his body was suddenly lit on fire, like someone was sawing at his nerve endings. It hurt, Jesus fucking Christ it hurt, oh god it hurts so much oh god oh god I’m dying I’m going to die oh god oh god... Red flooded his vision, then yellow; he distantly registered his fingers cramping as they curled tightly. Sans heard a bang next to his ears and later realized his head had probably smacked against the chair, but he didn’t feel it. His muscles contracted so hard Sans worried he would break a bone. Just as spit was starting to fly off his lips, the pain ceased. It stopped just as sudden as it started, the pain quickly becoming nothing but a bad memory and residual tingling. Sans slumped in the chair, panting and twitching.

“...no ventricular fibrillation,” Gaster was saying into a recorder. Sans choked on his breath as his eyes filled with tears. The standing man turned around and smiled softly at his quivering son.

“Well done. You passed this one, Sans; the DT seems to be working as it should. We are finished today. Come back to my office when you are ready.” With that, Gaster undid the wrist and ankle straps and left the room.

Sans shook in the chair, curling up. He stayed like that, making himself as small as possible, for a good fifteen minutes before rising unsteadily, gripping the counter for balance. The tests had never hurt this much before. He walked back into the office.

“Aw, you’re already done?” whined Papyrus. Sans stood in the doorway, willing the reappearing tears to go away.

“Y-yeah, let’s go Pap,” he whispered. The smallest in the room pouted for a few seconds before packing up the puzzle he was working on. Papyrus had gotten about halfway through it. There was a picture of a thunderstorm on the box, a prominent bolt of lightning running down the middle -- such terrible irony. The sixteen-year-old almost broke down right there. Papyrus jumped up and pulled on his red coat and hat. Sans hadn’t moved.

“Sans? Are we going?” Papyrus asked. Sans sucked in a shaking breath before nodding slightly. They turned to leave, but were stopped by a voice.

“I’ll see you later this evening, boys. I love you,” Gaster smiled.

* * *

Papyrus wanted to do another puzzle when they got home. He ran to his room and came out with a 1,000 piece jigsaw featuring a pomeranian before Sans even finished taking off his shoes (though, to be fair, Sans wasn’t exactly moving all that fast). The fourth grader carefully dumped the contents of the box onto the table before looking expectantly at his brother. Sans wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed, but it was really tough saying no when Papyrus made that face.

“Aw, come on Paps, not the puppy dog eyes!”

Papyrus responded by opening his eyes even further.

“Bro, I’m exhausted…”

He began to pout. Sans groaned.

“Ugh, fine.” He dumped his coat and bag on the ground before slowly walking over to the table and slouching in his chair. “You win this time.”

Papyrus grinned at him before gesturing at the pieces. “Eyes.”

“I still think it would be easier to start with the edge pieces, but eye guess that works too.” Eh, not his best work, but a pun was a pun, no matter how mediocre. Papyrus threw a piece at his brother and got to work.

The two worked on the puzzle for about an hour -- well, Papyrus worked while Sans rested his head on the table and occasionally flicked pieces at him -- in silence, neither feeling up to conversation. They were content, though, comfortable to just be in each other’s presence.

For the most part Sans stared off into space, trying to come to terms with the… event that had occurred. He had been “helping” Gaster with this project for a while, but up until now that had almost completely consisted of injections. Sure, they hurt, especially when they first started -- Sans’s eye throbbed at the thought of that very first injection -- but nowhere near the extent of what he just went through. They began with one injection a month, then once a week at the lab in Colorado, but a couple of weeks ago Gaster had increased to one injection a day. Sans should have expected that the weekly trips to the lab would now consist of more than a simple shot considering they were now administered at home. As much as he resented this new development, though, he could see the reasoning behind it. The purpose of Gaster’s “Artificial Determination” project, as his father proudly referred to it, was to enhance one’s resilience. It was supposed to make subjects heal faster and be less affected by dangerous external stimuli, so it made sense that he would want to test Sans’s response to such stimulus now that he was being given dosages so frequently. 

It still sucked.

“Do you want to put the last piece in?”

Sans blinked. “Huh?” 

Papyrus held out a jigsaw piece and pointed to the nearly complete puzzle. Sans smiled warmly.

“You sure, bro? You love putting in the last piece.” It was something held almost sacred to Papyrus, being the one to officially complete a puzzle. Sometimes he even hid pieces in his pockets just to be sure no one else would finish it.

“Yeah, but I love you more.” Papyrus set the piece in his brother’s hand, gazing at him earnestly. 

“Aw, Paps!” Sans gently connected the piece to the rest of the puzzle before snatching his brother up into a hug, prompting the younger to giggle in surprise. If Papyrus noticed Sans holding him a little tighter than usual, he didn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Classes started up again this week and my Tuesdays have turned out to be super busy, so I'm going to start updating later in the week, specific day TBD. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Laughter and Strife, but Mostly Just Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good friends may not be the best medicine, but they sure do help. Matteo realizes their work may never be finished.

Sans was not looking forward to school today. He’d only managed two or three hours of sleep last night and was still feeling phantom tingles. Papyrus seemed content enough, happily unaware of what his father and brother had done. Frisk and Mike had been waiting on the sidewalk when Sans dropped his sibling off, and the three immediately took off toward the playground. Much less enthusiastically, Sans took off toward the high school.

Mechanically walking in through the front doors, the short teenager pulled two Advils from his pocket, brushed away some lint, and swallowed them dry. His head was pounding; there was a bump that must have blossomed when he’d smacked his head against the chair yesterday. Sans shuddered. The chair. He had been electrocuted. Sans’s eyes started to prickle with tears, but he forced them back. Crying would only make things worse.

“Hey, Sans!” An arm grabbed his shoulder. Sans shrieked, spinning around. Matteo giggled. “Sorry, darling. Didn’t mean to scare you. Hey, we’re all going to Applebee’s for lunch since we get out early today. Do you want to come?” Sans blinked, then blinked again. Today was a half day? Someone wanted to hang out with him?

“Um,” came the eloquent response. “Uh, sure? I guess? I mean, uh, thanks, you know-” Sans sputtered. Matteo smiled understandingly.

“We’re all excited for you to come, sweetie. See you in a few hours!” with that, Matteo removed their arm and strutted down the hallway, long black skirt sweeping around their ankles. Sans blinked once more before trudging after the confident teen. 

In biology, they spent the shortened period counting duckweed. It was definitely a waste of time, but Sans was grateful they weren’t doing anything that actually involved attention or thinking. Alice poured half of the cup into another container and handed it and a pair of tweezers to Sans. 

“Would you m-mind counting these?” 

Sans nodded, absentmindedly poking the little plants.

“I h-heard you were joining us f-for lunch today,” said Alice. Despite his sour mood, Sans felt warm inside.

“Yeah, Matteo invited me this morning. You don’t mind if I tag along, do you?” Alice smiled at him.

“N-no, not at all! We would l-love to have you come along!” 

Something occurred to Sans. “Oh, would you guys be alright if Papyrus joined us? I could always drop him off at home, but…” Pap hated being home by himself.

“Oh, o-of course! Udaya’s g-going to be thrilled!” At the mention of her girlfriend, Alice’s lips curled into a soft smile. Sans couldn’t help but grin in response.

“Cool beans.” This day was looking up.

* * *  
“No.” 

“Come on, Paps, we don’t have anything good to eat at home anyway.”

“We always go home after school on Wednesdays.” 

Sans sighed. “Don’t you want to meet my friends? I’ve told them all how cool you are, and they’re super excited to meet you!” 

Papyrus frowned, staring hard at the glove compartment. “I don’t want them to be sad I didn’t come…” 

Sans pulled out his trump card. “Plus, Udaya’s gonna be there!” A gasp was Sans’s only warning before his little brother started bouncing in his seat, flapping his arms with enthusiasm.

“Sans, I want to go! I want to see Udaya and ask her to teach me her supremely awesome volleyball moves and tell her that I like her red hair because I forgot to tell her when she came to my school!” Sans chuckled.

“Supremely awesome, huh?”

“Yeah, Udaya told me she had ‘supremely awesome’ volleyball moves!”

“Sounds incredi-ball.” 

Papyrus paused, brow furrowing. Three, two, one…

“SANS!”

* * *

The lunch crowd was small, something for which Sans was extremely grateful. Papyrus could be a bit unpredictable when it came to crowds, and he didn’t want his little brother to spend his free afternoon anxious.

“Hey punks, over here!” Udaya waved from a table in the corner. She and Matteo were currently arm wrestling, with Alice cheered them both on and Grillby studied the menu.

“UDAYA!” Sans winced at the loud yell and let Papyrus drag him over to his friends.

“What’s up, squirt?” Udaya unceremoniously smashed Matteo’s hand against the table before jumping up to meet Papyrus, either ignorant or uncaring of her opponent’s yelp and subsequent glaring. An evil smile crossed Pap’s face as he looked at his sibling.

“Well, Sans is definitely not up.” 

Sans raised his eyebrow. “Was that a short joke? Man, making fun of my height is in-tall-erable.” The mirth on Grillby’s face was completely worth the frustrated growl from his brother. 

After Papyrus and Udaya finished an obnoxiously complex handshake -- seriously, how had they already come up with that? -- they all sat down, Sans discretely massaging his temple.

“Paps, these are my friends. You already know Udaya, then there’s Alice, Matteo, and Sean.” Each of them waved at Papyrus, who smiled in return.

“Hey, where’s Nico at?” 

Matteo sighed. “He’s at home, probably playing the piano. Nico doesn’t like going out much.”

“I understand. Sometimes you just need to relax and go solo.” Wait for it...

“Ugh, Sans! You are going to lose all of your cool friends if you keep making those awful puns!” Sans chuckled as the waiter arrived and took their orders. He still wasn’t feeling great, but a salad didn’t sound too nauseating and fit in with his meal plan. 

“So, cuties, what brought your family to Snowdin?” 

Papyrus beamed at the nickname. “Dad is a scientist and the other scientists in this town wanted to help him with his project, which was really nice of them!”

“Wait, d-does your dad do r-research at the biochem lab downtown? T-that’s so cool! Have you b-been there? W-what’s it like?” Alice’s eyes were alight with wonder.

“We go there on Tuesdays,” informed Papyrus, “and Sans gets to help Dad with some of his experiments, but I’m still too little to help.” He pouted at that.

“S-Sans, you get to w-work with him? I’m s-so jealous! What k-kind of experiments d-do you do?” As Alice looked at him excitedly, Sans couldn’t stop the slight shiver that ran through his body at the thought of yesterday’s test. 

“Um, well, I mostly work on the menial tasks, like, y’know… cleaning out test tubes and whatnot. Boring stuff.” The throbbing in his head was becoming more pronounced. Alice was absolutely beaming and looked ready to ask something else when their waiter conveniently returned at that moment with a basket of breadsticks. The conversation turned to a safer territory, and Sans had relaxed again by the time they received their meals. 

Everyone but the Roman brothers dug in to their food. Papyrus took time to smooth out the napkin on his lap and organize his food so that the apple slices weren’t touching his chicken fingers, and Sans stared down at his salad, willing his stomach to settle. He normally went for the greasiest thing on the menu, but there was no way he’d be able to choke down a burger with how he was feeling. Luckily, Papyrus was too distracted by Udaya to comment on his brother’s sudden change to a healthier diet.

“Not hungry?”

Sans started at the soft voice. Grillby was watching him contemplatively from across the table.  
“Oh, heh, not really…” he trailed off, for once at a loss for words. Grillby just smiled at him gently.

“How’re you liking Snowdin so far?”

Sans breathed a sigh of relief, glad Grillby wasn’t going to press him.

“It’s smaller than I’m used to, but it’s cute. Paps definitely loves it. He wasn’t a fan of how crowded Denver could get.”

Grillby seemed to ponder this, ruminating as he chewed his food. 

“You guys are close, aren’t you?”

Sans smiled and looked fondly at his brother, who had abandoned his food in favor of practicing the right form for a volleyball spike with Udaya while Alice giggled and Matteo snapped pictures on their bedazzled phone.

“Yeah, we are. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

“I’ve got a baby sister, Fiona. She’s the cutest thing, but I swear to god she knows more than she lets on.”

That got Sans’s attention. He turned back to Grillby and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll show you.” Grillby pulled his phone out and tapped it a few times before sliding it over to Sans. On the screen was a photo of a baby in a bright green onesie with hair as orange as her brothers. She was smiling sweetly up at the camera. Sans studied the picture for a few moments before looking up at his friend.

“Uh, she’s super cute, Grillbz, but I don’t really know what you’re trying to show me.”

“Look at her eyes!”

Sans zoomed in on Fiona’s face and squinted. 

“You see?” asked Grillby. “Those are eyes that have seen some shit. Every now and then I catch her looking at me like she knows my deepest secrets. Sometimes I wonder if my parents are using her to spy on me.”

Sans burst out laughing. Grillby managed to stay in character for all of two seconds before he broke and cracked up.

“Oh my god, what the fuck? Where did that even come from?” Sans shook his head in amusement. 

“Hey! Sans! You said the F word -- that’s two quarters in the swear jar!” Apparently Papyrus hadn’t been completely caught up in screwing around with Udaya.

“Whoops, sorry Paps, I swear I won’t do it again.”

Papyrus, Udaya, and Matteo groaned in unison.

“Ugh, Papyrus, do you have to deal with this all the time?” The youngest of the group nodded sagely at Udaya.

“Forget the swear jar, darling, you need to get your brother a pun jar.” 

Papyrus giggled at Matteo’s comment. “That’s a good idea. Sans would go broke!”

They ended up staying at Applebee’s for a good portion of the afternoon, ordering breadsticks whenever the waitstaff started to seem antsy for them to leave. At one point Udaya snuck a kiss to Alice, causing the latter’s face to go bright red and Papyrus to squeal in delight. 

“They’re really cute together,” Sans said softly to Grillby. “How long have they been dating?”

Grillby looked fondly at the two of them. “It’s been a few months since Udaya asked Alice out, but they’ve liked each other for a long time. To be honest, I don’t know if they ever would’ve gotten together if it weren’t for Matteo playing matchmaker.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Fear, I guess. Everyone could tell that they had fallen for each other, but Alice thought Udaya was out of her league, and for all her bravado, Udaya was terrified of being rejected.” 

Sans mulled this over for a moment. “They really didn’t notice that their feelings were mutual? Funny how blind you can become to your own situation.”

With a keen eye, Grillby scrutinized his new friend, taking in the slouch of his shoulders and the exhaustion adorning his face. “I guess sometimes you need somebody on the outside to see for you.”

“...yeah, I guess so.” The two were quiet for a few minutes. Sans tried to figure out if it was uncomfortable or not. Luckily, he didn’t have to think about it for too long; Papyrus had come to stand right next to his brother without Sans noticing and proceeded to poke his arm to get his attention. 

“What’s up, bud?”

Papyrus sighed and pressed his face into Sans’s coat, drawing a chuckle out of him.

“Ah. Time to go?”

Papyrus nodded. 

“Alright, why don’t you go say goodbye to Udaya and we can leave.” Sans gathered their things as Papyrus gave everyone a hug. After bidding his friends goodbye, Sans followed his brother out to the car. Grillby watched them go, his eyes only leaving the pair when he heard Matteo snort.

“What?”

Udaya, Alice, and Matteo shared a knowing look. Grillby’s eyebrows creased.

“What?” he repeated.

Matteo raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, G?”

“I’m lost. Did I miss something?” Grillby stared at his friends, utterly confused.

Alice chuckled and Udaya rolled her eyes. Matteo’s eyebrow somehow crept higher up their face.

“Why am I even surprised?” They sighed again, this one even more dramatic than the last. “Here we go again.”

Grillby just shook his head, giving up.


	5. The Greater Good (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sans and Grillby are awkward and Gaster is feeling the heat.

Gus Aster Roman frowned, flipping through the notes in his binder. So far, the effects of the increased dosage had been negligible, but the subject had only received two rounds of the new amount of. It was likely that the effects would worsen for a while once the subject’s system absorbed more of the substance.

“Still don’t trust technology, Dr. Roman?”

Gaster clenched his jaw in frustration, irritated at the interruption. He plastered on a pleasant smile as he stood from his desk and turned to meet his visiter.

“Ah, Mr. Amal, what a pleasure. You know I prefer pens over keyboards.”

“You always were a private one.” 

“What brings you here? Last I recall you were not a fan of laboratory visits.” 

“Sometimes comfort must be sacrificed in the name of progress.”

Gaster restrained himself from rolling his eyes. If Amal thought he was being poignant, well, he had no idea just how much comfort the Roman family had ceded in the development of this project.

“It is hard to make progress when you are keeping me from my data. What is it you want?”

Mr. Amal lowered his voice. “I pulled a lot of strings to get you out of Denver, Dr. Roman. My superiors are anxious for results. I trust you will be making significant headway with the threat of an investigation removed?” He stared at Gaster, levelling him with an icy gaze.

“I assure you, advancements will be made. The subject has been responding well to tests, and I am certain the trend will continue.”

“I do hope so. We invested a lot in you, Dr. Roman. You do not want to disappoint us.”

* * *

Out of the ten days he’d been a student at Snowdin High, Sans had slept through precalculus for eight of them. The other two he had been too busy reading up on Feynman to actually pay attention, which explained why he had never noticed that Grillby sat three desks ahead of him. Unfortunately, this made their current situation a bit awkward.

“Sorry Grillbz, I haven’t been ignoring you, I just honestly never noticed we were in the same class.” Nice going, dumbass. ‘I never noticed you,’ that’ll go over well. Jeez.

Luckily enough, Grillby found the whole thing amusing. “I’m not surprised, considering every time I’ve looked back at you you’ve been passed out. What I don’t get is how you can understand this stuff. The test is tomorrow and I still have no idea what I’m doing.” 

Wait, he looks at me during class? Is that cute or creepy?

“I usually lie on my textbook, so I probably absorb the information through osmosis.”

Grillby chuckled quietly. The two walked out of the classroom together, heading toward Grillby’s locker.

“So, Grillbz, huh?”

Sans grinned. “Yeah, a nickname for your nickname. A nicknickname? Nicknamename? Double nickname? Nickname squared? I dunno, but it means I like you.” Why did I say that?!

A light blush dusted the taller teen’s freckled cheeks, but he kept smiling. “Um, good. I’m glad. That you like me. It’s good.” Now both of them were blushing, and they spent the rest of the journey in silence. When they arrived at Grillby’s locker, Sans opened his mouth to bid a farewell.

“Would you want to come over tonight, to study? For precalc?” Where the hell did that come from? What is wrong with me?!

Grillby huffed out a laugh. “That would be great, Sans, thanks. I need all the help I can get.” 

Guess I’ll just pop some Advil and hope for the best. “Awesome, I-”

“Hey, punk!” 

Sans jumped at the sudden yell. Udaya was charging down the hallway with no sign of slowing down. Leaning over to Grillby, he murmured, “Should we move?”

“Nah, she’ll stop.”

Sans was dubious, but Udaya somehow managed to slam to a halt inches away from his face.

“You like puns, right?” asked the redhead.

“...Yes?”

Udaya smirked and then smacked herself in the face. Sans’s brow furrowed and he looked to Grillby for guidance, but the Scottish teen simply shrugged.

“Well, eye have to say, eye for one think puns are lame.” She triumphantly removed her hand from her face and held it out, putting on display a glass eye and an empty eye socket. Sans opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

“Weren’t you in gym? Did you run halfway across the school to tell me you don’t like my puns… with a pun?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Eye see.”

Udaya put her prosthetic eye in her pocket before socking Sans in the shoulder.

“You’re lucky we’re friends, Sans.”

Sans bit back a smile at that. Friends! I have friends! “I’m surprised you sunk to my level with a pun, though I must say it was well executed.”

Udaya cackled and punched his other shoulder. “It got knocked loose when some jackass hit me in the face with a dodgeball; I figured I’d make the most of the situation. Later dudes.” She took off down the hallway once more. Sans turned back to Grillby.

“I thought maybe the aggressiveness would die down after a bit, but I guess not.”

Grillby, for his part, seemed unsurprised about the whole ordeal. “Udaya expresses her feelings… uniquely, but she’s always genuine. Showing you her eye means she trusts you.”

This time Sans didn’t even try to hold back his smile. He beamed. Whatever had just happened was strange, random as hell, and he wasn’t sure he was actually done processing it, but… it was sweet, in its own way. It seemed that everything Udaya did was done with passion, and Sans had to admire that. His thoughts were cut short by the tardy bell.

“Oh. We should probably get to class.” Grillby fidgeted with his shirt.

“Yeah.” Sans started to leave, and then noticed Grillby looking at him expectantly. “Oh! Meet me by the front doors after school; I can give you a ride to my house if you don’t mind stopping to pick up Papyrus.”

“I’ll be, um, red-y,” Grillby replied, tugging a lock of his fiery hair. He winced. “Sorry, that was bad.”

Sans snorted. “No, Grillby, that was perfect.”

The two went their separate ways, a soft smile adorning each of their faces.

* * *

Sans groaned the moment he saw Papyrus walk out the front door with Frisk and Mike.

“Shit, Grillby, I forgot. Paps scheduled a playdate with his friends today… we may have to mix some supervising in with our studying. Sorry. I can run you back to the school if you’d rather go home.”

Grilly shook his head. “No worries, I’m always down for a playdate.”

Sans grinned as Papyrus stopped in front of the passenger door and knocked on the window. He rolled it down a little bit, much to Papyrus’s annoyance.

“Sans.”

 

“What?”

“Please roll down the window.”

Sans rolled it down slightly. 

“Sans. Please.”

Sans rolled it down just a tiny bit more. Papyrus glared at him, looking straight into his brother’s eyes. Sans held his gaze, neither of them blinking. Grillby coughed. They didn’t move. Frisk tapped Papyrus’s shoulder. They didn’t move. Papyrus started to scrunch up his nose. The corner of Sans’s mouth twitched, and he rolled down the window the rest of the way. The younger brother glared at him for exactly three more seconds before promptly moving on.

“Thank you. Why is your friend in my seat? I am happy that he is your friend and that he is with you, but in your car that is my seat. Why is he in it?”

“Well, Paps, Grillby here is having a playdate with me today. I told him he could sit next to me, and I know that’s usually your seat, but Grillby’s pretty tall. The back probably wouldn’t be very comfortable for him.” Sans strategically avoided pun usage.

Papyrus pondered this before nodding. “Okay, but I want my seat back tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

As Papyrus and his friends crawled into the backseat, Mike worked up the courage to ask a question that had been bothering him for at least thirty seconds. 

“Er, is your name actually Grillby? ‘Cause that’s a weirder name than Papyrus.”

Sans chuckled as Grillby’s face reddened. 

“Nah, just a nickname. Grillbz, this is Mike and Frisk, some of Pap’s super cool friends.”

“Frisk is a they, not a he or a she. And my arm is fake,” Mike helpfully informed.

“I’m sure we can count on you to lend us a hand if we need any help, right?” Sans winked at Grillby as Mike and Frisk giggled and Papyrus fumed.

“Sans!”

“What? I’m just saying his help could come in handy. You don’t need to get all up in arms about it.”

Papyrus began kicking the seat in frustration.

“Kick my seat all you want, Paps. I can see you smiling.”

“I know and I hate it!” Papyrus gave one last kick before letting out a huff and crossing his arms. Grillby looked back at him.

“Don’t worry Papyrus, I’ll make sure Sans doesn’t give you and your friends too hard of a time.”

Papyrus nodded his approval. The car was quiet for a few moments before Frisk suddenly spoke up. It was the first time Sans had heard them speak.

“You should meet my mom. She likes making jokes, too,” they said softly.

Sans glanced over his shoulder to flash Frisk a warm smile. “She sounds super cool. What kind of jokes does she like to make?”

“Snail jokes!” Frisk proclaimed, this time with more confidence. Sans and Grillby both snorted.

“Snail jokes?” asked Mike. “That’s so random. I’ve never even heard a snail joke!”

Frisk hummed. “She has lots of snail jokes. They’re the best.”

The rest of the ride was spent with three fourth graders debating the validity of ‘snail’ as a comedic genre, the older two in the front occasionally chiming in. They parted ways once they had reached the Romans’ house, Papyrus and his friends rushing to the den to play while Sans showed Grillby to his room.

“Sorry it’s kinda messy.”

Shrugging, Grillby dumped his bag on the floor. “I don’t mind. My room is a bit of a mess as well.”

Sans eyed his friend, taking in his wrinkle-free button down and pants that, judging from the creases, must have been hanging up. “No it’s not.”

“Guilty as charged,” smirked Grillby. He sat next to Sans on the bed. They were quiet for a few awkward moments, neither sure what to say, until eventually Sans gave a defeated sigh.

“I guess we should probably start studying.”

“Yeah.”

To be continued...


	6. The Greater Good (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the greater good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the warnings listed in the tags!

“The most important thing to remember about polar coordinates, really, is-”

“Take that!” 

Sans was cut off by a yell from across the house, followed by shouting and raucous laughter. The afternoon had been going fine at first, but then Papyrus decided to get out the board games, and the two teenagers had barely managed to get out a full sentence in the last ten minutes. Grillby spun around in the desk chair and Sans smashed his face into the carpet.

“Ugh, we’re not getting anywhere. I can’t believe Frisk is so intense about Scrabble.” The floor muffled Sans’s words a bit, but Grillby caught most of them. He scrutinized his paper carefully and was surprised at the ease with which he could now interpret the numbers and symbols adorning the page.

“You know, I-” 

“Aha! Your use of a Q is no match for my double word score!” 

Despite the interruption, Grillby chuckled. “Sounds like Papyrus is pretty excited, too.”

Sans sighed, lifting his face from the ground. “Yeah, he tends to feed off of others’ enthusiasm. He’s like an adorable parasite.” The two friends sat for a bit, quietly listening to the shrieks floating down the hallway. Grillby checked his phone.

“Well, we’ve been at it for almost two hours, and,” he paused as a particularly loud cry came from Mike, “and I actually feel pretty confident for tomorrow. A little break wouldn’t hurt.”

“I like the way you think.” Sans stood and stretched his back. “Lucky for us, I know just what we should do.” 

With that, he started out the room, heading toward the commotion. Grillby followed, and they arrived just in time to see Frisk performing a very creative victory dance… with Papyrus’s scarf wrapped bandana-style around their head and Mike’s arm cradled in their own. The latter sat there, looking at his stump dejectedly. Papyrus ran up to his brother as he walked into the room.

“Sans! Frisk beat us in Scrabble, which means they are very good and were very determined to win because usually I am the very best at Scrabble. Did you know that there are words that have a Q but no U? Mike told us about betting so we all betted something that the winner got to have for two whole minutes. I betted my scarf and Mike betted his arm. Frisk betted their stick but since they won they get to keep their stick.” Frisk proudly patted the stick in their back pocket while in the middle of a complicated version of the macarena. 

Sans jumped in when his brother paused to take a breath. “Wow Frisk, you’re pretty smart.” The kid beamed at him before continuing their dance, throwing in some leaps and dramatic head tosses. “And you guys placed bets? On Scrabble?” The three nodded enthusiastically. “That’s cool, I guess, as long as everyone gets their stuff back before they go home.”

Frisk dropped to their knees, holding Mike’s arm like a guitar and strumming vigorously. Grillby clapped politely. 

Mike’s watch beeped. “Okay Frisk, it’s been two minutes. Gimme my arm back.”

Frisk strummed three more times in rapid succession before popping up and gently handing the prosthetic back to their friend, then spinning on their heel and throwing the scarf at Papyrus, who happily wrapped it back around his neck.

“Alright,” began Sans, rubbing his hands together, “Grillby and I are tired of doing math. Can we play with you guys for a little bit?” Mike nodded as he put his arm back into place and Frisk gave a thumbs up. Papyrus gasped.

“Wowie! Sans, Sans, can we build a fort?”

The older Roman grinned and gestured to the pile of blankets he had conveniently placed in the corner the night before.

“Way ahead of you, bro.”

* * *

The five of them built the fort quickly, and soon enough there wasn’t a piece of furniture that didn’t have a blanket draped across it. Sans crawled inside, a pillow under each arm. He kept one for himself and threw the other at Grillby, who smoothly caught it with his face. Frisk, Mike, and Papyrus were already reclined against their own pillows and were sorting through the Roman family’s mediocre DVD collection while the older two got themselves comfortable, Sans quizzing Grillby on formulas he would need for the test tomorrow. They both looked up at a sudden sharp intake of breath.

“What do you mean you’ve never seen Harry Potter?!” Papyrus and Mike were looking at Frisk, shock written on both of their faces. Frisk shrugged and opened their mouth, but the other two were already on the move. Mike began frantically searching through the case for the first movie while Papyrus crawled over to his brother.

“Sans, can you please make us popcorn? Please please please?”

Sans smiled and ruffled Papyrus’s hair. “Of course, bud. You know how to start the movie?”

Papyrus nodded before eagerly turning back to aid in the search for the film.

“I think we’ve got some Gatorade in the fridge. How’d you feel about helping me carry all the snacks, Grillbz?”

The teens ducked out of the fort and made their way to the kitchen. Sans grabbed a bag of popcorn from a cabinet and stuck it in the microwave, directing Grillby to the fridge.

“There should be some red ones on the left side, top shelf.” 

Grillby grabbed five bottles and set them on the counter. They stood for a few moments, listening to the popcorn popping and the Harry Potter theme song playing from the television.

“Thanks for being chill about spending our break fort-building. If you want we can leave the popcorn with them and go back to working on the review problems.”

Grillby thought about the offer and sighed. “As much I love cinematic misinterpretations of beloved literary characters, we should probably finish the review.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sans said as he grabbed two bowls and dumped some popcorn in each. They brought the food and drinks into the living room and left some with the kids before heading back down to Sans’s room with their own refreshments. The teens settled back into their previous spaces.

Another hour passed by without Sans and Grillby noticing. In between working on problems they entertained themselves by throwing popcorn at each other and shooting the breeze. It was… nice. It was fun. It was such a nice, fun environment that Sans was put completely off his guard. He didn’t even realize Gaster was home until he entered the bedroom.

Gaster stepped in just as Sans caught a piece of popcorn in his mouth. When he saw his father standing in the doorway, white hot fear bloomed in his stomach. Sans desperately grabbed at the snack bowl, but it was too late to hide it.

With a pleasant smile on his face, Gaster greeted his son and friend. “Hello Sans, and hello to you too. I don’t believe we’ve met?”

Grillby stood quickly and stuck out his hand, looking flustered at the unexpected arrival. “Mr. Roman, hi. I’m Sean, Sean Bradigan, Sans’s friend from school.” The two shook hands, the amiable look never leaving Gaster’s face. Sans scrambled up from the floor and wiped his hands on his pants, trying to control his breathing.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I didn’t realize Sans would be having a guest. I only picked up enough takeout for three.”

“Oh, uh, that’s okay,” said Grillby, “I wasn’t expecting to eat here anyway. Um, my car’s at the school…”

“I can give you a ride,” Sans said quickly, jumping at the chance to avoid his father for a little longer. He’s gonna be so pissed…

Grillby grabbed his bag and silently followed Sans out to the car, waving goodbye to Papyrus and his friends.

Once he was behind the wheel and out of sight of his father, Sans let out a deep sigh. Grillby looked at him in concern.

“Sans… are you okay?”

The shorter teen refused to shift his gaze from the front window. “Yeah, Grillby, I’m fine.” 

“Well, you don’t seem fine. You kinda freaked out when your dad came home.”

Sans clenched his jaw. “Did I? Because I don’t recall that.”

“Sans, seriously. You… you looked scared. What’s going on?”

“You know what, Sean? Even if I weren’t okay, which I am, it really wouldn’t be any of your business, now would it? You barely know me, so stay in your own damn lane.” 

Grillby looked away, hurt. Neither said anything for the rest of the ride.

* * *

By the time Sans got home, both Frisk and Mike had left and Papyrus was finishing the movie by himself. He was so absorbed in the thrills of Gryffindor winning the house cup that he took no notice of his brother’s entrance. Gaster, however, did. He looked coolly at his eldest son, the warm facade from earlier gone. He strode over to the stairs, walking down without a backward glance. He knew Sans would follow.

The teen carefully stepped down to the basement, every excuse he had come up with in the car dying on his lips.

“What,” began Gaster, “do you think you were doing?”

“Look, I know I was eating outside of the allotted time, but I’ll have less grain for dinner to compensate! It was just some popcorn, it’s not a big deal!”

“Not a big deal?! Sans, your idiotic, reckless behavior could jeopardize the entire project!”

“It was just a bit of popcorn!”

Slap.

Sans reeled from the impact, cheek stinging.

“How stupid can you possibly be?” hissed Gaster. “Did you not hear anything I said? Have you not listened to me at all in the three years we’ve been conducting this?”

Lowering his gaze to the floor, Sans clenched his fists. 

Gaster’s face softened. “Sans, I love you and your brother. You’re both so precious to me, and I only want what’s best for you.”

Sans looked up sharply. “You electrocuted me!”

“And you were fine!” cried Gaster. “You had no burns, no lasting side effects! Sans, I have given you the greatest gift a father could give. This is the closest humanity has ever come to any form of comprehensive immunity, and you are the first to receive it!”

The younger Roman closed his eyes, willing the tears to recede. “Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t want this?”

“Sans, my son, you must remember why we’re doing this, why I need you. If you don’t go through with the project there will hundreds of thousands more unnecessary deaths, deaths that you could have prevented. Do you want their blood on your hands?”

Gaster had given some variation of this speech countless times. As much as Sans didn’t want to admit it, as much as he wanted to scream and leave and just give up, his father was right. This wasn’t about him; the headaches and pain were nothing compared to the overwhelming benefits of the serum. 

“Okay,” he whispered, “I’m sorry. I won’t go off my meal plan again.”

“That’s my boy. I love you, Sans.”


	7. The Price We Pay to Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: blood, sharps

Sans walked through Snowdin High’s front doors, stomping the snow off his shoes a bit harder than necessary. He felt guilty about being shitty to Grillby the day before, and the sharp pain that had blossomed behind his left eye after last night’s dose was back with a vengeance. All in all, it was shaping up to be a crappy day.

“Sans?” Nico sat on a bench outside the commons, laptop open and headphones hanging around his neck. “I think you got all the snow off your sneakers.”

Sans looked down at his feet, which were still stomping. “Oh.” He stopped stomping and sat down next to Nico. “So, uh, what are you up to?”

The shy teen angled his laptop toward Sans and gestured at the screen. He was working with what appeared to be different pieces of audio.

“I’m working on some music right now.” Nico chewed his lip before glancing at Sans. “Do… do you want to listen to what I have so far?”

“Hell yeah.” Sans accepted the headphones and closed his eyes when Nico hit play. An interesting combination of minor chords created a haunting yet somehow upbeat melody. Nico pressed pause after about a minute, and Sans handed back the headphones, grinning.

“Nico, that rocks! Does it have a name?”

Nico blushed and smiled back at his new friend. “Um, well, right now I’m calling it Spookwave, but I might change it, I don’t know…”

Sans patted his shoulder. “I like it. ‘Spookwave,’ yeah, I dig that.” He winced suddenly as the pain in his head swelled. Huh. Maybe listening to loud music through headphones wasn’t the best thing to do with a budding migraine. Nico frowned.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a headache.” Sans was saved from further explanation as Undaya quite literally burst through the front doors, dragging Alice behind her. Matteo sauntered in after them, not at all bothered by the commotion their friend was causing. Udaya immediately locked eyes with Sans and levelled him with a glare. The shorter teen gulped, nervously awaiting whatever judgement Udaya was about to rain down upon him. She jabbed a finger in his direction.

“What the fuck did you do to Grillby?!”

Sans blanched, blindsided by the comment. The throbbing in his head grew in tempo as panicked thoughts raced around his mind. 

“Um-”

“He’s sitting outside, in the cold might I add, the cold which he hates, all by himself. Alone. Staring at the snow. I know he was at your house last night, so you must be the reason he looks like someone strangled his cat. Did you guys have a simple lovers’ spat or do I need to kick your ass for real?”

Everything Sans was feeling screeched to a halt. “Wait, did… did you… lovers’ spat?”

“H-hey, come on, c-calm down Udaya,” Alice said, trying to diffuse her girlfriend. Udaya paid her no heed.

“I don’t care what you call it, Sans, I just want to know what you did to Grillby so I can decide how much of a beating you’re about to get.”

Sans gulped, guilt swirling in his stomach.

“I-” he was cut off again, this time by Grillby himself, who no one had seen walk in.

“Udaya, chill.” 

She whirled around to face him. “I’m not doing any chilling until someone tells me why the hell you’re moping around. You’re never mopey, so obviously something happened.”

At this point, Nico, Matteo, and Alice had moved to the side, not wanting to be a part of whatever was going on. Grillby looked at Sans, Sans stared at the ground, and Udaya glanced back and forth at the two of them. “Well?”

As much as Sans wanted to apologize to Grillby, he had no intentions of doing it with an audience. He clenched his jaw, searching for an escape.

“I, uh…” Sans bit his lap. 

Grillby sighed. “Seriously Udaya, leave it alone. This has nothing to do with you.”

Before Udaya could retort, Sans’s phone rang. 

“Gotta take this,” Sans mumbled, grabbing the phone from his pocket. His jaw clenched when he saw who was calling him. Talking with Grillby and Udaya suddenly seemed like the better option. After yesterday, though, there was no way he could ignore this call. Sans sat back down on the bench, holding the phone to his ear with a hand that was definitely not shaking.

“Dad?”

“Sans. I need you to come down to the lab.” Somehow, Gaster’s voice was even colder over the phone, and his words sent icy tendrils running down Sans’s spine. His migraine roared.

“Dad, I’m at school right now, I can’t just leave.”

“Classes haven’t started yet, so you can, in fact, just leave. I’ll call the office and say you’re sick and you’ll come to the lab.”

“But I-”

“Now, Sans.” With that, Gaster hung up.

Sans bit his lip. This was new -- in the three years he had been receiving treatment, Gaster had always stuck to a schedule. This spontaneity couldn’t be anything good.

“What was that about?” Udaya still looked angry, but less so than before. Grillby looked like he wanted to say something, but he held back, gazing at Sans sadly. 

Sans tried to grin, but he wasn’t sure how well it came out. “My dad needs help at the lab, so I’m taking off.” He left the building with the feeling of his sins crawling on his back.

* * *  
Sans stepped into the room uneasily, eyes locked on Gaster’s back. His father made no sign of acknowledging his presence, but he knew Gaster was aware of his arrival. Sure enough, Gaster spoke mere seconds after Sans’s entrance.

“Go to the testing room and remove your shirt.”

Sans didn’t move. His father turned, eyes blazing with fury.

“Do as I say!” He stopped mere inches from his son, hand poised to strike. Sans took in a shuddering breath but stood his ground.

“What are you going to do to me?”

Gaster glared at him. “Last I recall, you have no authority to be asking such questions. Go.” 

 

The younger of the two backed slowly out of the office and headed down the hall, head pounding in time with his racing heart.

Gaster silently followed him in, fastening the straps tight around his son’s legs and bare arms once he sat in the chair. He then grabbed a camera and tripod that had been sitting in the corner of the room and positioned as if to take a video of Sans’s forearm. 

“Um, what’s the plan for today?” Sans asked hesitantly. Gaster did not respond. Instead, the scientist strode to the workbench set up against the wall and grabbed a scalpel. Hot coils of terror twisted in Sans’s stomach. His mind was screaming at him to get out, to escape, but he was locked in place. There was nowhere he could run. The next thing Sans knew, Gaster had hit record and was slicing into his arm.

* * *

Sans stared at the beads of blood running down his dark skin, mesmerized. His father muttered to himself as he scribbled down notes, but Sans took no notice. His focus remained solely on the fresh gash in his forearm and the ringing in his ears. Eventually Gaster left the room, leaving Sans alone, tied to a chair with nothing but fragments of thoughts floating around in his mind and the sound of blood dripping onto the tile floor.

He had no idea how long he sat there, trying to get his bearings, waiting to be released from his restraints. 

He… cut me?

He waited.

* * *

The next few hours passed by in a blur. Gaster eventually returned, inspecting the wound and looking pleased with himself. It had scabbed over relatively quickly, and Sans could already feel it itching, healing. He flinched when his father began wrapping gauze around his arm, jolted out of his stupor.

“Excellent,” murmured Gaster, “this is excellent. Now, I don’t want you touching the bandage. Don’t shower until after your check-up tomorrow night, and don’t perform any activities that will strain your arm. You may leave.”

Sans slowly stood, keeping his gaze away from the small pool of blood on the floor, and left the room on shaking legs.

“You did well, Sans. I love you.”

He didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is a bit late and shorter than normal -- this last week has been super busy. The next chapter will be longer for sure!
> 
> I also wanted to thank you all for reading; the kudos and comments make my day! It's so nice to hear from you all, and I really appreciate the feedback. Thank you so much!


	8. Sail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The power of friendship knows no bounds.

His phone was definitely mocking him. After leaving the lab and picking his brother up from school, Sans had gone straight to his room. That was over an hour ago, and he had been staring at his phone the entire time.

Damn phone.

He should call Grillby -- he needed to call Grillby. While they only met recently, Sans had grown close with the redhead and ached at the thought of losing their friendship.

Sans glared at his phone a few minutes more, anxiety building relentlessly until he finally grabbed his phone and pressed call before he could talk himself out of it.

“Sans?” Wow, he picked up on the first ring. Sans smiled, just a little, in spite of himself.

“Hey, Grillby. Um, I just… fuck, I’m sorry I acted like such a dick. I totally lashed out at you and you did nothing to deserve that. I’m so sorry.” The words hung heavy in the air for a few moments before Sans heard a quiet exhale on the line.

“It’s okay, Sans. I pushed at what was obviously a sore spot, and it wasn’t my place. I’m sorry, too.”

Sans smiled ruefully. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Grillby, but apology accepted. So, uh, is… are we good? Are we-”

“Yeah. We’re chill.”

Sans chuckled. “If the hothead says we’re chill, then I gotta believe him.”

“Hey, Udaya’s the hothead!”

“I dunno, Grillbz, your fiery hair says otherwise.”

The pair settled into an easy conversation, cracking jokes and relishing in each other’s company. They ended up talking for almost two hours before Sans heard distant shrieking from the other end. Grillby groaned.

“Aaaand, that would be Fiona.”

“She sounds pretty upset. Big Brother Grillby to the rescue?”

“Duty calls. I’m really glad you called, Sans… you never have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but, I, uh, just wanted to let you know that if you ever need to talk or vent or whatever, I’m always here to listen.” 

Sans was silent for a moment. He stared at his bandaged arm, relieved his friend hadn’t asked about his departure from school, yet suddenly wishing more than anything to tell Grillby everything, to lean on his friend and get rid of the secret he was forced to wedge into the middle of every relationship.

“Thank you, Sean,” he responded quietly. “Same goes for you, alright?”

“Deal.”

The distant shrieking intensified.

“Crap, I really need to go. See you at school tomorrow?”

“I’ll hold you to it. Bye, Grillby.”

“Goodbye, Sans.” The call ended, both teens smiling like fools.

* * *  
For once, Papyrus didn’t start dinner off with a play-by-play of his day. He stared quietly down at his potatoes, rocking forward and back ever so slightly as he pondered… something. Sans watched him carefully, ready to step in before Gaster if Papyrus got upset. The other two ate quietly, waiting for the youngest to speak up about whatever was on his mind. Eventually, Papyrus raised his head.

“Frisk invited me and Mike to have a sleepover with them on the Saturday after this Saturday. I decided that I want to go. Can I?” He gazed at his brother and father expectantly, eyes wide. Sans blinked in surprise. 

“Of course you can go,” Gaster said, smiling warmly at his son. Papyrus beamed before looking to Sans, who nodded encouragingly. That seemed to soothe whatever worry remained, and Papyrus attacked his meal with a gusto he rarely showed when it came to food, chattering away for the rest of dinner. 

Once the table had been cleared and the dishes and food were all put away, Sans followed Papyrus back to his room and flopped onto his bed, receiving a glare.

“Get off my bed please.”

“Nah.”

Papyrus huffed, then flopped down next to his brother. Sans rolled over and poked him on the nose, drawing a giggle out of his little brother.

“You feel ready for a sleepover, bud?”

The kid nodded vigorously. “Yes! At first I thought I didn’t want to go but then I remembered that I really like Frisk and Mike and they don’t touch me when I don’t want them to and they are super fun and great so I decided I did want to go.”

Sans grinned, filled with pride. Papyrus had only been invited to a handful of sleepovers in the past, but he was always quick to turn them down. The fact that his brother both found great friends who loved him as much as he loved them and felt comfortable enough to stay overnight with them was nothing short of great. “You’re so cool, bro. You know that?”

“Yes, Sans, you tell me all the time.”

“I just don’t want you to forget.”

Papyrus smiled at him, but it wasn’t quite as big as normal. “You’re cool too, Sans.”

“Heh. Thanks, Pap, but not as cool as you.”

“No! You are the coolest brother ever, and you don’t want me to forget that I’m cool, but sometimes I think you forget that you are super cool too!” This took Sans by surprise. Papyrus wasn’t done, though.

“Sometimes you are sad, and you pretend that you’re not, but I can still tell. And… and you don’t like to play with me and Dad as much as you used to, and you sleep a lot, but you still look tired. I get frustrated because I want to help you feel better and remember how cool you are, but I don’t know how to.” Papyrus finished, gazing at his brother with sad eyes.

Sans was frozen, completely blindsided. God, he’s perceptive as hell. Guilt rolled in his stomach at the thought of making his brother worry. He grabbed Papyrus and pulled him close, pressing a kiss into his unruly hair. 

“Nothing gets passed you, does it?” Papyrus, cocooned in his sibling’s arms, shook his head. “Sometimes… sometimes life seems rougher to me than I think it should, and I feel like I have to work really hard to keep doing everything like I used to. I’m sorry it’s been getting you down, but I want you to know that you always help me.”

“Really?” Papyrus asked in a small voice.

“Yep. Jamming out to the radio in the car and hanging out with you after school makes me feel so much better if I’ve been feeling down. You are so, so bright Papyrus; you always know just what to say. You light up my life, bro.”

Sighing happily, Papyrus snuggled even closer before stopping abruptly. 

“That was a pun, wasn’t it.”

Snickering, Sans started tickling his brother. 

“Hey, no fair! We were having a moment!” he wailed, struggling against the fingers prodding at his ribs. Sans kept at it until they both dissolved into giggles and lay panting on the orange comforter. 

“Having fun?” 

The new voice startled them both. When he saw his father in the doorway, Papyrus jumped up, smiling wide. Sans wanted to scream.

“Yeah, Dad! Do you want to play?”

Gaster shook his head fondly. “I would love to, Papyrus, but I need Sans’s help for a little bit.”   
Papyrus pouted but dutifully moved over to let his brother off the bed. 

A familiar sensation akin to numbness settled over Sans, the joy he was feeling quickly dissipating. After flashing a quick smile at Papyrus he followed Gaster out the door and down to the basement. Sans went through the motions on autopilot, donning the robe, standing on the scale, and slouching down onto the stool.

“How did you feel when you woke up?”

“Headache, pain behind left eye.”

“How long did it last?”

“An hour or so.”

“Were you in pain later in the day?”

Slicing my arm open didn’t feel so good. “No.”

“Have you stuck to your meal plan?” At this, Gaster fixed his son with a stern look.

“Yes.”

“Did you eat and drink only in the allotted times?”

“Yes.”

He stared at Sans a few moments more, scrutinizing his face for any sign of a lie before marking something down on his clipboard.

“Did you notice anything unusual or out of the ordinary?”

“Depends on how you define ordinary,” Sans mumbled. The pen halted its scratching, prompting a sigh. “No.” 

Gaster set the clipboard down and grasped Sans’s forearm, removing the bandages. He studied the wound, finding it to be remarkably well-healed for the short time it had been there. The tall man looked quite pleased with himself.

“Well, this just looks fantastic. Do you see this, Sans? The DT has proved to be an excellent healing catalyst -- the scarring will likely be minimal as well.”

“Whoopee.”

Gaster ignored him, scribbling down more notes and murmuring partially formed thoughts to himself.

“Wonderful, just wonderful…” He finished up, then procured a new syringe, filling it with the concoction Sans had come to know all too well. Sans didn’t even blink as he waited out the fire flooding his veins.

“Do you feel any different now than before the injection?”

“No.”

“Dismissed.”

* * *

The following day, Sans took a pit stop in the restroom before lunch to reapply some deodorant. He knew not bathing for one day wasn’t that big of a deal, but he was used to a hot shower in the morning and felt hyperaware of the fact that he hadn’t been able to today.

Plus, it let him stall a bit before facing his friends. He had seen Alice in biology, and she mercifully hadn’t mentioned his sudden departure the day before. Somehow Sans didn’t think the rest of the gang would let him off quite as easily.

He was right about that. Sans was granted a solid three seconds to smile at Grillby as he sat next to him, savoring the feel of the easy atmosphere that had replaced the tension from earlier, before Udaya bombarded him.

“Sans! Where were you yesterday, punk?! Oh, glad to see you and Grillby made up.”

“Heh, yeah, we’re all good now.”

Udaya glared at Sans with an almost palpable intensity. 

“Um, and my dad kinda needed immediate help with the project he’s working on…” 

Luckily, before the redhead could interrogate him further, her girlfriend jumped in.

“Seriously? Y-you got to miss school to do research? I-I’m so jealous!” Alice practically had stars in her eyes.

Sans floundered. “I think it was a one time thing… nothing to be too jealous about.” Sans studiously ignored Grillby’s inquisitive stare.

Alice still had a dreamy look on her face. “What’s the f-field you dad’s in? I-I mean, I know it’s biochem, b-but-”

“Ah, it’s biomedical,” Sans interjected. He continued before anyone else had the chance to do the same. “What about you, Alice? You obviously want to do something science related… have any area in particular in mind?”

“W-well, you know, I-I’m really thinking along the l-lines of electrical engineering, but, um-”  
“Robots,” Nico supplied, a knowing smile on his face, “she wants to build robots.”

Alice blushed as Undaya ruffled her hair. “Y-yeah, that’s, um, th-that’s what my m-main goal is…”

Sans smiled. “Hey, that’s really cool, Alice.”

“Do you guys think I would look sexy as a robot?”

Everyone at the table froze, eyes darting to Matteo. The look on their face was genuine. Nobody knew what to say. Grillby coughed.

“I mean, you could already fry an egg on these legs, and of course my hair would have to stay, but I really think some gears could add something special.” 

There was a brief silence again until Sans started chuckling. This set Grillby off, and soon enough the entire table was cracking up. They laughed for quite awhile, dropping the previous subject. Sans couldn’t remember the last time his face hurt from smiling so much.

“So,” Alice began, still giggling, “do you want to study science, Sans? You d-definitely already have a foot in the door.”

Sans grinned. “You have a point there -- I could probably be a real shoe-in.” His smile widened at the resulting groans. 

“Seriously though! D-Do you want to do the same k-kind of stuff as your dad?”

I’d rather die. “Nah. I am interested in science, but definitely more on the physics side.”

Udaya scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Great, now there’s two nerds at the table.”

“Hey, we all have our quarks, Udaya.”

Alice cracked up again. “Wow, that one was really b-bad, Sans.”

“So bad the rest of us couldn’t even understand it,” grumbled Matteo.

“Yeah, if you’re going to pun, do it on our level!” 

“I’d have to borrow some of Matteo’s stilettos if I wanted to be even close to your level, Ms. 5’9 When Hunched Over.” 

Playful anger gleamed in Udaya’s eyes as she stood, drawing herself up to her full height and preparing to retaliate.

“Hey, no need to get so fired up,” Grillby said, one corner of his mouth raised. Sans turned to face him fully, grinning like a shark.

“Eh, Udaya’s fine, just burning off steam. No need to scoald her.”

Grillby snorted. “Okay, that one was a reach and you know it.”

The two bickered back and forth, unaware of the knowing looks their friends were sharing. By the time the bell rang to signal the end of lunch, the two were shoulder-to-shoulder, absolutely beaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I have been super busy recently with exams and the like so I'm not sure if I'll be able to get in another chapter this coming weekend. Don't worry, though, there will definitely be more coming soon!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and thank you for all of the feedback!


	9. Ventura Boulevard

It was a Saturday morning, and Sans was doing homework. He didn’t want to be doing any work on a Saturday morning, period, but he woke up with a dull ache behind his eyes that was only growing. If he was going to finish his work before Monday, Sans knew he needed to start now before he felt worse.

Ugh.

His arm was remarkably well-healed; he didn’t need to wear a bandage anymore and Gaster was beyond pleased. There had been no testing the last few days, only the regular nightly check-ups. Still, though, Sans’s health seemed to be on a downward trend. He felt more sluggish than usual, almost as if the energy was being drained out of him, and had been having occasional dizzy spells.

It sucked. This history paper wasn’t doing anything to help his headache, either.

Sans was strongly debating giving up and going back to bed when his phone buzzed. He smirked and flopped onto his bare mattress, happy for the excuse to make the wrong decision. 

\- Hey Sans! Do you want to come over? Everyone kind of ended up here but it doesn’t feel complete without you :)

It was too much. The perfect grammar, the smiley face, “it doesn’t feel complete without you;” Sans suddenly felt the urge to flap his hands in excitement like he had seen Papyrus do so many times. He probably would’ve, too, if he didn’t think the sudden movement would make him sick.

\- aw thx  
\- im def comin  
\- omw now  
\- wait idk where u live

Sans didn’t have to wait long at all for Grillby to reply with his address, and soon enough he was pulling on his hoodie and searching the room for his left shoe.

“PAP! WHERE’S MY OTHER SNEAKER?”

“STOP YELLING ACROSS THE HOUSE!”

“YOU’RE YELLING, TOO!”

“I AM YELLING BECAUSE YOU ARE YELLING!”

Sans rolled his eyes and slung his bag over his shoulder before heading out to the den in search of his brother. Papyrus was laying on the couch, reading a book with his head propped up in his hands. 

“You wouldn’t lose your shoes if you kept them in the same place,” he said without looking up. 

“Yeah, yeah, I should be more organized, bla bla bla. We’ve had this conversation before, Paps, and you and I both know it’s never gonna happen.”

Papyrus sighed. “Why would I know where your shoe is? Knowing you it probably ended up in the fridge.” 

The older of the two narrowed his eyes in suspicion, then stalked over to the refrigerator and threw open the doors. His left shoe sat innocently next to the milk, laces tied into a bow. 

“Seriously Papyrus?”

“Don’t blame me! I always keep my shoes in the same place. You’re the one who thinks it’s cool to just leave your things wherever.” 

Huffing in amusement, Sans slipped on his chilled sneaker and grabbed his keys. “Ice one bro. I’m going to go hang out at Grillby’s for a bit, okay? Are you good here by yourself for a couple of hours? Dad should be home for lunch.”

“Okay. Can you please say hi to Grillby for me?”

“Of course, buddy. See you in a bit; call me if you need anything.” 

Papyrus gave a thumbs up and immediately went back to his book, so enraptured with the story that he missed the proud look adorning his brother’s face as the elder left. In less than a year Papyrus had gone from outright refusing to be left home alone to facing the challenge with nonchalance. He really was something.

* * *  
Sans was let into the house by Grillby’s mother, who smiled at him before tentatively signing with an apologetic look on her face.

“Hello,” she said, fingers slow and steady.

“Hi Ms. Bradigan, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sans, a friend of Sean’s from school. I have to admit I’m not that great at ASL, but I know a few basics,” he spoke, before signing a hesitant “sorry.”

The woman’s face lit up. “Nice to meet you! They are upstairs,” she told him before gesturing to the staircase to make sure he understood. Sans thanked her and slipped off his shoes.

She gave his shoulder a warm pat before leaving him to find his way to her son’s room. The climb to the second floor winded Sans more than it should have, and he paused for a moment on the top step to try and even out his breathing. A sharp pain flashed behind his eye.

Damn it. He waited a few more seconds for the ache to subside, then followed the sound of voices to the end of the hall. The door to Grillby’s room was open, and it didn’t take long for those inside to notice Sans.

“Look who it is!” Udaya cried from where she was hanging upside-down off the bed. 

“Girl, your face is as red as your hair,” admonished Matteo. “Quit laying like that.” 

Udaya flipped them off. Rolling his eyes, Grillby beckoned his friend into the room. “Glad you’re here.” He smiled warmly at his friend before frowning and moving closer. “Are you okay? You look pretty pale.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t had a chance to hit the tanning booths recently.” Sans gestured to his dark skin with a smirk, receiving a raised eyebrow for his efforts. “Seriously though, I’m fine.”

“I’m pretty sure Grillby’s aware of that fact,” muttered Nico. Sans frowned in confusion as Udaya snickered and Grillby flushed.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing, don’t worry about it,” Grillby cut in, his voice a half-step higher than usual. “Um, you can sit anywhere, food’s downstairs, I can give you the wifi password, uh, yeah.” He sat back on the bed, suddenly looking immensely interested in his notes.

“Jesus Christ, just-.” Alice elbowed Udaya before she could finish her sentence. Sans blinked, unsure of what just transpired. When no explanation was offered, he shrugged and sat down on the empty desk chair.

“Paps says hi, by the way.”

“You’ll have to give him a fist bump for me.”

“Can do.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Matteo coughed. When nothing happened, they nudged Grillby with their foot.

“Get your nasty feet away from me.” Despite looking incredibly offended by Grillby’s comment, Matteo simply nodded in Sans’s direction, then motioned to the rest of the group.

“Oh. Sorry this whole thing was a bit spur of the moment. Nico and I are working on an English presentation, and Matteo followed him here, then Snapchatted Udaya, who dragged Alice over with her,” Grillby explained.

Sans nodded and looked around the bedroom, taking in the comfortable atmosphere and the way everyone seemed to just… fit. Something told him this was a situation his friends found themselves in often, and he couldn’t help but feel pleased that they had invited him into their close group.

Easy chatter filled the room, enough to provide some energy but far from overwhelming. Grillby and Nico went back to discussing the motifs in Twelfth Night, Alice patiently helped her girlfriend work through biology homework, and Matteo muttered quietly in Spanish as they typed furiously on their laptop. His history paper suddenly seemed much less daunting when surrounded by friends. There was probably a metaphor there, but Sans didn’t care to look too deeply into it. No amount of friendship could cure the relentless headache that had been building all morning, however, and Sans was relieved when Grillby called for a break an hour or two later.

“I made risotto last night and there’s quite a bit leftover -- anyone down for lunch?”

“Fuck yeah! Your risotto is the best!” shouted Udaya. She had the decency to look sheepish when Grillby glared at her. “Uh, I mean, heck yeah, your risotto is the best!”

Sans began to stand up, excited for the chance to finally taste some of Grillby’s highly-praised cooking, when the pain behind his left eye spiked and swirling colors filled his vision. His ears felt fuzzy, like he couldn’t hear right, and his knees began to buckle.

“-oah, are you okay? Sans?” 

He tried to respond, to reassure the worried voice that he was fine, but it was taking his mouth a while to catch up to his brain.

“Shit, you got him Grillby?”

“Sans? Can you hear me? Sans!”

The world quickly righted itself again, and Sans blinked to clear his vision. “Ugh.”

“That’s it, there you go.”

“Uh… wha’ ‘appened?” Sans furrowed his brow, trying to straighten out his head. He was kneeling on the floor with Grillby in front of him, face lined with concern. 

“It looked like you were going to pass out for a second there.”

A moment passed as Sans’s mind finished catching up to reality. “Oh. I do that sometimes. Don’ worry, ‘s all good.”

That only seemed to heighten Grillby’s apprehension. “You mean this has happened before?”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘s no big deal.”

“Y-You’re slurring your words, Sans,” Alice said softly from where she stood with the others.

“Heh, my tongue jus’ feels a bit heavy. It’ll pass.” He slowly began to stand again, ignoring the way his legs shook. Grillby looked like he was going to object to the movement but held back, instead electing to rise with his friend. 

“Sweetie, you can’t really expect us not to worry when you nearly blacked out,” Matteo said hesitantly. 

Fuck, he really should’ve just stayed home. Sans knew he wasn’t feeling well, he knew something like this could happen in front of them, fuck fuck fuck, now they were going to ask questions and he would have to keep goddamn lying to them, fuck-

“Sans!”

Sans was jolted out of his building panic by Grillby’s shout. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m okay, I just-” shit, what was the excuse they agreed on? “uh, l-low blood pressure. S-Sometimes I get dizzy if I stand up too fast.” He took a few more deep breaths and squeezed Grillby’s hands in thanks before pushing himself the rest of the way up. 

“Sorry about all the drama. The whole room spinning thing kinda freaks me out, but it’s honestly not anything to get too worked up about.” He offered them a small smile, shoving his trembling hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

Grillby gave him a long look, eyes clearly showing he knew there was something more to the story. Sans did his best not to squirm under his gaze. 

“Okay.” The tall teen stood up as well and gestured to the door. The others slowly filed out, quietly making their way to the kitchen. Grillby and Sans brought up the rear, the former watching his companion carefully in case he stumbled on the stairs. 

When everyone had arrived at the kitchen without incident, the energy from before gradually came back. Ms. Bradigan was warming the dish in the oven and signed something to her son, who flushed and replied just as rapidly. She smirked at him and then made her way out, waving to the group sitting around the table as she left.

Grillby pulled a stack of plates out of a cupboard. “You guys can come help yourselves; drinks are in the fridge.”

“What, you mean you’re not going to serve us?” Udaya quipped.

“I could just not let you eat my food, you know.”

“Nah, you love us too much to let us starve.”

Sans sat quietly. The buzzing anxiety from his little blunder was still there, along with the now throbbing headache, but for now he was content to just let the friendly banter wash over him. He started when a plate was set down by his place at the table.

“Aw, you won’t serve them but you’ll serve me? Careful Grillbz, your favoritism is showing.” Grillby rolled his eyes and sat down next to Sans, whose grin softened. 

“Thanks, though.” He looked down at his plate. “The food looks really good, I can’t wait to finally taste some authentic Sean Bradigan cuisine.”

“You’re not even ready, punk. This risotto is to die for, and Grillby’s cooking somehow tastes just as good even after it’s been reheated.” Udaya dug in as soon as she sat back down, moaning dramatically at the first spoonful. 

Nico flung a piece of rice at her. “Careful, Udaya, or you’re going to make Alice jealous.”

The rest of lunch was carried out in a similar fashion. The conversation was kept light, and Sans was grateful not to be interrogated. He made sure to gush about how great the risotto was, happy to see the deep red that spread across Grillby’s cheeks.

He even managed to eat the whole plate of food, despite the lingering nausea. Nobody was angry with him, conversation was easy, and there were no lies. It was the closest Sans had felt to normal in a long time.

* * *

Dr. Roman,

You have three weeks. 

\- Amal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, it's been a while! Sorry for the long wait -- classes, work, and research have really been keeping me on my toes and I haven't had much time to write. At least for now I probably won't be able to update every week, but rest assured this story is ongoing and I have no plans of stopping until it is finished! Also, apologies if the formatting is weird -- I type these in Google Docs and the format doesn't always transfer well.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)


	10. Dads, am I Right?

The tardy bell rang right as Grillby walked into precalc on Monday, looking angrier than Sans had ever seen. He stalked straight to his desk and sat down, face stormy. Class began before Sans could ask if he was okay, and he spent the entire period staring at the back of Grillby’s head, wondering what could’ve put him in such a state.

Class dragged by, the teacher droning on about something Sans couldn’t be bothered to listen to while thoughts swirled around in his head. It must have been something big if it was affecting him like this; Grillby was usually pretty mild-mannered. He was sitting stock-still, his body tense. It was more than a little unnerving.

No matter how hard he looked, Grillby didn’t turn around, and he was the first one out the door after the bell finally rang.

Sans grabbed his notebook and rushed out after his friend, pushing through the flood of students until he reached Grillby’s locker. The redhead stood there, unmoving.

“Forget your combination?” 

Grillby jumped, then gave Sans a sheepish look. “No, I was just…” he trailed off before shaking his head. “It’s no big deal.”

Something twinged in Sans’s heart, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the daily injections. “Hey, if there’s something making you upset, then it’s a big deal to me,” he said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Thanks, Sans, but we both have class.”

“I wasn’t planning on paying attention in stats today anyway.”

Grillby hesitated, considering, then slowly set his textbook back on the shelf. He turned to Sans, lips quirking in a small smile. 

“Well, if you insist, I happen to know of an empty room that provides a fine environment for talking.”

Sans grinned back at him. “How convenient. Lead the way, Captain.”

They walked to the end of a hallway Sans had never been down before. The room was locked, but to Sans’s shock Grillby just pulled a bobby pin from his bag and had the door open in under a minute.

“Since when do you know how to pick locks? How many times have you done this? Are you a criminal? Are you going to kill me in this classroom?”

The taller of the two chuckled, and Sans was glad to see that some of the anger that lined his face before seemed to have dissipated. 

“I wasn’t planning on it, but now that you bring it up, this would be a pretty good place to hide a body.”

The teens walked into the classroom and flipped on the lights, exposing the layers of dust covering the desks and chairs.

“Yeesh, no kidding. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in years.”

Grillby walked over to the chair behind the desk at the front of the room, inspected it, then made the wise decision to sit against the wall instead. “They were planning on renovating this area a few years back, but didn’t end up having enough money. It’s just used for storage now.”

Humming in acknowledgement, Sans walked over to sit beside his friend, far enough away that they weren’t touching, but close enough to be within reach. “So… you okay?” he asked tentatively. 

He was met with silence. It lasted long enough that Sans was beginning to worry that maybe his friend didn’t want him there, but eventually Grillby let out a long sigh.

“My dad, um, he left. After Fiona was born. Said everything was ‘too much’ for him, that he needed to ‘take care of himself.’” He scoffed. “The pregnancy was hard on my mom, but she pulled through, no thanks to him. She was so happy when she saw Fi for the first time. I guess he wasn’t.”

Sans looked sadly at his friend. “No offense, Sean, but your dad sounds like a spineless douche.”

“None taken. He called me this morning, he fucking asked me to send him money. He’s such a fucking-” he cut himself off with a groan, leaning his head back against the wall.

Maybe it was just the light, but Sans thought he saw something glistening in Sean’s eyes. He was suddenly angry, furious that someone hurt his friend. 

“You deserve so much better than that shit.” On an impulse, he grabbed Sean’s hand. They both froze, staring at their entwined fingers. 

“Uh, sorry, I-” He tried to pull his hand back, but Sean squeezed it and shot him a smile.

“Thank you, Sans.”

The shorter teen returned the smile and squeezed back. “Always.”

* * *

“Sans, why does your face look like that?” Papyrus asked, head cocked as he examined his brother’s expression.

Grillby and Sans ended up skipping the rest of their afternoon classes, opting instead to stay in the unused classroom and talk. Voicing his family troubles seemed to relieve Grillby of a lot of pent-up emotion, and their conversation soon turned to lighter topics.

It was so easy, talking to Grillby. Something about being with him just felt… right.

Plus, Grillby hadn’t let go of his hand until they got up to leave.

“Saaaaaaaaaaaans,” whined Papyrus.

“What?”

Papyrus rolled his eyes. “I asked, why does your face look like that?”

“It’s just my face, Paps. I can’t help it.”

“But it looks different. Why are you smiling like that?”

Was he smiling? “Um, because I’m happy?”

“Why?”

It was Sans’s turn to roll his eyes. “Can’t I just be happy? I’m always happy to be with my best bro, you know that.”

“I am your only brother, Sans, and this smile is different.”

“What, do you keep a log of all my smiles?”

Huffing in frustration, Papyrus kicked the dashboard. 

“Alright, alright,” Sans said, taking pity on his brother. “Something happened earlier today that made me really happy, but… I dunno, I guess it’s a different kinda happy than I’m used to.”

Papyrus perked up immediately, intrigued at the new development. He began bouncing eagerly in his seat. “Tell me tell me tell me!”

By now they had reached their house, and Sans parked against the curb. He made no move to turn the engine off, though, instead turning to his brother.

“If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone?”

A look of confusion flitted across the younger’s face, but he nodded his assent.

Sans could feel himself blushing. “This probably sounds a little silly, but…” he paused as he struggled to quell his embarrassment. “Um, Grillby and I, uh, held hands today.”

There was a solid three seconds of silence before Papyrus gasped. “You like like Grillby!” he squealed, flapping his hands in delight. “I knew it! I knew it! Is he your boyfriend now?”

Something about it being said out loud made his feelings real. In the back of his mind, Sans had known for a while that he might have had a tiny little crush on Grillby, but now there was no denying how he felt for his friend. 

He chuckled weakly, painfully aware that he had just spilled something big to his little brother, and there was no going back now. “No, Paps, he’s not my boyfriend. We just held hands, I don’t even know if he likes me back.”

“Of course he does! You just need to ask him to be your boyfriend!”

“It’s not that easy, bro. Feelings can be pretty messy and I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Papyrus pouted, looking thoroughly disappointed. “Maybe if you hold his hand a lot it will be easier to ask him to be your boyfriend.”

His brother was too pure for this world. “You could be on to something there, Paps. Right now, though, you’re the only one who knows that I… that I, um, like Grillby, and I don’t really want anybody else to know yet. Do you promise to keep it a secret?”

Without hesitation, Papyrus held out his pinky. “Promise.”

They linked fingers, then Sans pulled him in for a hug. “I love you, kiddo. Thank you.”

“Love you. You can ask me any questions you have about love, I know a lot about it.”

Sans snorted as he pulled away and stepped out of the car. “Do you, now?”

“Yeah.” Papyrus slung his bag over his shoulders and they walked up to the house. “Frisk is basically an expert on love; they taught me a lot.”

“Ah, I see. I’ll be sure to come to you with any love-related questions that crop up, then.”

The fourth grader beamed as he stepped inside and carefully removed his shoes and coat. His brother, on the other hand, kicked his shoes off and dumped his coat and bag on the ground before traipsing off to the kitchen in search of an afternoon snack. With a groan, Papyrus set about collecting the elder’s belongings and putting them neatly in their places.

The basement door opened just then, and Gaster strode into the room without sparing his sons a glance. Papyrus gasped in delight, pleasantly surprised to see that his father was home early.

“Dad! Dad! Guess what! Today at recess-” 

“Be quiet,” Gaster admonished. “I don’t have time for meaningless conversation today.” With that he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went back down the stairs, shutting the door behind him with a cruel finality.

Sans stared after him in shock. While he didn’t always know how to respond to Papyrus’s needs, Gaster had never outright dismissed him like that. Before Sans could say anything, Papyrus ran down the hall and into his room.

Shit.

After a moment of debate, Sans followed after his brother. Papyrus always came first, always. He could have words with Gaster later.

“Paps?” Sans knocked gently on the bedroom door. When he got no response, he knocked again, listening carefully. 

“Papyrus? You don’t have to say anything, buddy, I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can I come in?”

After a moment, a faint knock came from within the room. Sighing in relief, Sans slowly opened the door. Papyrus tended to go nonverbal when upset, but at least he was still responsive.

The kid was curled up in the corner of the room, rocking himself and quietly crying. It wasn’t the first time this had happened and it wouldn’t be the last, but Sans felt his heart break nonetheless. He sat down against the bed, facing his brother.

“Are you okay with me being in here?”

One knock. Yes.

“Okay, just let me know if you need some alone time.” He sat quietly, considering his next words.

“Remember that one time I told you Fluffy Bunny was for babies?”

Papyrus furrowed his brow, obviously confused as to how that related to the current situation. Encouraged by the response, Sans continued.

“I was having a bad day, and I said something that was really hurtful. I didn’t mean what I said, but that didn’t take away from the fact that my words made you feel bad.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“What Dad said to you was not okay. I think he’s under some stress from work, and all the frustration he was feeling led to him saying something he didn’t mean. He couldn’t have meant it, because you’re way too cool to ever say anything meaningless.”

That word made Sans feel sick.

“That doesn’t make what he said any better, though, and you have every right to be upset. Dad acted like a real asshole.” 

Papyrus stopped rocking at that and looked at his brother with wide eyes. “Swear jar.”

They sat in silence for a good few minutes before Papyrus launched himself at Sans. The elder held him tight, swaying back and forth and stroking his hair, waiting for the tears to dry out.

* * *

Almost an hour passed before Papyrus asked to be alone, voice soft but steady. Sans pressed a kiss to his head and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He felt his anger return the moment he was alone and went straight to the basement.

Gaster was hunched over a notebook, writing frantically. He addressed Sans without turning around.

“It’s not time for your injection yet. Go back upstairs.”

“You don’t get to talk to him like that. Ever.”

The scientist paused, then set his pencil down on the desk. “Please, Sans, don’t blow this out of proportion. I told Papyrus to be quiet, that’s hardly unreasonable.”

“You said conversations with him are meaningless. You made him cry.”

At this, Gaster finally turned to face his son. There were dark circles under his eyes; he looked exhausted. Sans couldn’t find it in himself to care in the slightest.

“I didn’t want to upset him, you know that. I love you both too much.” The tall man ran a hand through his hair, face grim. “This weekend I received a deadline. My employers are pushing me for results, but it’s too soon. I have to fit a month’s worth of work into a week.”

Sans glowered at him. “If you’re looking for pity from me, you’re shit out of luck.”

“My son, please try to understand-”

“Stop. Just stop.” He placed a hand on the railing to steady himself, ignoring the blur in his peripherals and the sweat collecting on his brow. “Do whatever you want to me, I’m already this fucked up. But you stay the hell away from Papyrus.”

With that, he turned around and walked slowly up the stairs. Gaster went back to his notes and stared at the pages of calculations. They weren’t complete, but they would have to be enough.

It was time to begin the final phase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! The semester will be over in a couple of weeks, so updates should become more regular. I might not be able to get back to updating every week because I'm working two jobs this summer, but you can definitely expect new chapters sooner and more consistently!
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for all the support! I try to respond to each comment, but know that I read each one and appreciate them so so much. You guys are so kind!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter; thank you for reading!


	11. Darker Yet Darker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like someone's having a bad time.

Sans was really starting to hate being strapped to chairs.

He watched his father carefully as the tall man muttered to himself, carefully measuring out a sample of that godforsaken red liquid. Artificial determination, Gaster had called it, back when he first told Sans about the experiment. It was supposed to boost the immune system, allow one to heal faster and become more resilient to physical harm.

It was supposed to help people.

At first, Sans was hesitant. Of course he was -- who wouldn’t be a bit wary of a new, relatively untested and dubiously stable substance entering their bloodstream? Gaster was persistent though, always quick to remind his son of how vital his participation in the project would be, of how on top of saving lives he wanted to improve Sans’s health, to make him stronger.

Sans always had been a pretty weak kid. It was almost laughable, how fragile he really was. A mild case of osteogenesis imperfecta and an immunodeficiency disorder left him short-statured and worryingly prone to illness and injury. However nervous the prospect of this new drug made him, the thought of being bedridden more often than not for the rest of his life scared him more. 

In the end, it didn’t take much to convince him to be the first human test subject of Gaster’s life’s work. The idea of a more normal life paired with his father’s constant reassurance and promises actually made everything sound pretty enticing.

The doctor bent over his son, cleaning his upper arm with a cold sanitary wipe. Sans could feel his heart pounding, and it was everything he could do to keep himself from shaking. He had only been strapped down for an injection once before. The first injection.

That first one had been the worst, no doubt about it. While the subsequent doses had all been delivered via veins in his arm, the initial injection was different. Gaster had mentioned something about lobotomies as he gently secured the straps against Sans’s wrists. Apparently the doctors back then had something right -- it was the easiest way to access the brain.

Sans tried not to think about it now, but it was hard to forget when his eye began to throb. That was the first time he had truly feared his father.

Finally, Gaster brought the needle over. Despite his reservations, Sans glanced at it. He immediately wished he hadn’t. The syringe was distinctly larger than any they had used in the past, and it was almost completely filled. Gaster said nothing as he pushed the substance into his son.

This had been routine for over three years. Every week, then every other day, then daily, Sans would receive a dose of this “artificial determination.” It hurt every time, but eventually it became a familiar pain.

Today, though, something was different. The first few seconds, everything was normal, just like yesterday and the day before. Then it hit, all at once.

Sans squeezed his eyes shut and bit his tongue, doing everything in his power not to cry out. He hadn’t screamed during an injection in years.

The pain kept building. It burned, more than it ever had before. Sans could feel it slicing into him, like it was tearing into each cell and ripping apart his very DNA.

“Ngh-” he clamped his mouth shut, breathing rapidly as pressure built up in his head and his body began to writhe. 

“Gaster, p-please, it hurts, Dad, please, help me!” There wasn’t any sign of respite, and though his eyes were shut, colors swam in front of Sans’s eyes. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. 

Gaster watched his son contort in agony, a troubled expression on his face. There was nothing he could do, though. Nothing but remove the straps after Sans finally blacked out.

 

* * *  


To be honest, Sans probably shouldn’t have driven to school the next morning, or gone to school at all. His vision was blurring in and out of focus, he was nauseous, his hands were shaking, and he kind of felt like he had been hit by a truck. Papyrus certainly had been confused by his brother’s odd behavior, but a half-hearted joke about needing to exercise more had set him at ease, at least a bit.

Well, he was here already. Might as well get on with it.

The noise hit him right when he walked through the doors. There were students everywhere, talking to their friends as they waited for the day to begin, and it was so, so bright. Sans briefly wondered if this was what a hangover was like.

“Hey, Sans! Did you and Grillby really skip yesterday? Ha! I didn’t think you had it in you!”

Ugh. Sans loved Udaya, he really did, but her yelling wasn’t doing any favors for the pounding in his head. He gave her a small smile and walked over to where she, Alice, and Grillby were sitting.

Udaya frowned at him. “Dude, you look like shit.” Alice nudged her.

“I’m fine, just didn’t sleep well last night,” Sans murmured. He glanced at Grillby, who was looking at him in concern. It seemed to be a common expression nowadays. The taller teen stood up and placed a hand on his forehead. Sans went to pull away, but his body betrayed him and he leaned into the touch. Damn it.

This felt nice, though. It wasn’t quite holding hands, but it was something. 

“Sans, you’re burning up,” he said softly. “Why did you even come in?”

He shrugged, hating the worry in Grillby’s voice. “Don’t feel that bad.” 

Grillby sighed. “Somehow I don’t believe you. C’mon, let’s go to the nurse.”

Feeling too dazed to protest, Sans allowed his friend to help him stand and lead him to the office. He vaguely registered Alice and Udaya telling him to feel better, but mostly he just focused on walking without stumbling.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “You don’t… you should get to class. I’m okay.”

“Class won’t start for another 10 minutes, anyway. Besides, you’re more important,” Grillby said without hesitation. 

They arrived at the nurse’s office before Sans could think of a response. He took one look at Sans and told him to go home, not even bothering to check his temperature.

“Looks like you’ve got the flu. It’s been going around. I’ll let the office know you’ll be out sick today -- is there someone that can pick you up?” the nurse asked. 

Sans squinted at him. “No?”

“I can take him,” said Grillby. “The bell hasn’t rung yet, so I won’t need to sign out or anything.”

The guilt was enough to make him wince. They had already skipped class yesterday, and though Grillby had agreed to it, Sans was the one to suggest it in the first place. Now his friend was going to be late because of him. 

“You- you really don’t need to do that, G. I drove here, so I can drive back home. It’ll be fine.”

The nurse looked at him sternly. “You’re not driving, young man, not in this condition.” He addressed Grillby. “Tell you what, I’ll see what I can do about getting you an excused tardy, just try to get back as soon as you can.”

“Thank you, sir.” With that, Grillby gently pulled on Sans’s arm, leading him out the doors.

It was bright outside, the sun glinting off the snow with a vengeance. The two teens walked slowly to the parking lot, both grimacing at the sudden light.

“Man, this hit you pretty hard. Were you feeling okay yesterday?” Grillby frowned as he thought back to the afternoon they had spent together. His friend hadn’t seemed ill then, but…

“Heh, yeah, it’s uh, kinda weird. I felt fine yesterday…” until last night, of course, but Grillby didn’t need to know that. 

They climbed into the car Grillby shared with his mom, Sans relieved to sit down again. It was strange, really, how much this particular increase was affecting him. The more recent times Gaster had upped the dose did wear him down a bit more than they used to, but yesterday’s injection really had him down for the count. 

As they pulled out onto the road, Grillby glanced at his passenger. He really did look awful, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded, the whole works. The lack of puns was more concerning than he wanted to admit.

“Are you going to be alright?”

Sans turned to look at him, a lopsided grin on his face. “I’ll be fine, Grillbz, you don’t gotta worry about it. It’s just- just the flu. Nothing that hasn’t happened before.” Well, that was true in some sense. He and influenza were well-acquainted as kids, and this was almost the same thing. Almost.

Grillby smiled back at him. “Yeah, I know. Sorry for nagging.”

“This is nagging? Really? You should hear Papyrus when he catches me being lazy. This is nothing.”

That got a laugh. Good, that must mean he at least sounded coherent.

The rest of the trip was peaceful, and Sans couldn’t be more grateful for Grillby’s cautious driving. Sharp turns and jerking didn’t sound like something his stomach could take at the moment. He could feel his eyelids drooping, but didn’t realize he had shut them until Grillby spoke again.

“Hey, we’re here,” he said softly. Sans slowly blinked awake, looking around in mild confusion. 

“Oh, heh, sorry.” He climbed out of the car, automatically reaching to grab his bag. Wait, did he leave it at home this morning?

“You didn’t have your bag with you when you got to school, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Ah. Grillby was so observant. And patient. And-

“Thanks, G. For… all this.” He didn’t have the energy to say more, or make a joke. He thought Grillby understood anyway.

“Of course, Sans. Go get some rest, yeah? And don’t come to school tomorrow if you’re not feeling better.”

Sans chuckled a bit, stepping fully out of the car. “Gotcha. See ya later.”

Grillby stayed in the driveway until Sans made it inside the house. He smiled to himself as he watched the other pull away. What a mother hen.

After grabbing a bucket from under the sink in case he actually did puke, Sans slowly walked to his room. His car was still at the school… shit. Gaster had been coming home late for the past week or so, and he didn’t usually answer his phone while at work anyway. Papyrus needed a ride home from school.

Damn it.

With a sigh, he sat down on the bed and pulled his phone out, finding Grillby’s name in his short list of contacts. He picked up on the first ring.

“Sans? Is everything okay?”

“Ah, I have a favor to ask, actually. I’m really sorry about this, I know I just made you late to-”

“Sans. Shut up. What do you need?”

Man, Grillby was too good to him.

“I usually bring Papyrus home, but my car’s still at school and Dad’s not going to be home until late… would you maybe be able to pick him up? I totally get it if you’re too busy, or you don’t want to, I can figure something out, I probably should have just-”

“I remember where we picked him up last time, it won’t be a problem. Will he be okay with someone different? Should I call the elementary school to let him know ahead of time or something?”

Way, way too good to him.

“Nah, he’ll be fine. He really likes you. Thank you so much, Grillby, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it, he’s a great kid. It’ll be nice to hang out with him for a bit. Go to sleep now, okay?”

“You’re the best, G.”

He was asleep in less than a minute.

* * *

Sans really, really hated being strapped to chairs. There was a loud ringing in his head, and he couldn’t seem to focus right. The room he was in was distorted by static, and everything seemed… dark. 

Really dark.

A sharp noise sounded on his right, and Sans felt his head loll over to look. 

Gaster was standing there, staring down at him. Smiling. 

Twin cracks ran down his face.

Sans tried to speak, but no words came out. He tried to move, but he was stuck.

The darkness was growing.

The scientist was saying something, but Sans couldn’t understand. His voice was garbled, almost like he was speaking in some strange new language.

The shadows were cutting deeper.

He lifted his hand. Plunged the needle he was holding into his son’s chest.

Sans couldn’t even scream. He watched, terrified, as burning pain spread throughout his body.

His body…

Something was wrong with it.

His legs. They felt…

They were melting. 

His skin was melting, then dissolving into dust, leaving behind nothing but bones.

The sensation worked its way up his legs, through his torso and arms and eventually to his head.

Soon it was all gone. 

Nothing but bones.

Sans screamed.

* * *

“Do you want to come inside?” 

Holding the door open, Papyrus looked expectantly at his companion. Grillby hesitated, not wanting to intrude, but he had been hoping to check up on Sans…

“Is that okay with you? I’ll only stay for a few minutes.”

Papyrus beamed at him and they walked in. He began taking off his shoes, but paused when he heard a noise coming from the bathroom.

“Sans?” He looked up at Grillby. “You said he didn’t feel good?”

The taller of the pair nodded, brow furrowing worriedly as he peered into the hall.

“What if I go check on him and you make that tea you were telling me about? I think your brother would really appreciate it, especially coming from you.”

Papyrus debated with himself. He wanted to comfort his brother, but he never really knew how to help him when he was sick. The tea always seemed to make him feel better, though. Would Sans be okay if Papyrus didn’t go to him immediately? Well, Grillby was here at least… 

“Okay,” he whispered, taking his other shoe off and heading into the kitchen. 

Grillby didn’t waste any time, quickly heading towards the bathroom. 

“Sans?” he knocked quietly on the door. “It’s Grillby. Can I come in?”

There was no reply. Worry building, Grillby opened the door.

The older Roman sibling was curled around the toilet, wrapped in a blanket. He was shivering, face glistening with sweat and tears. Grillby kneeled in front of him, placing a hand on his forehead. Sans looked at him, eyes slightly glazed.

“...G?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” He bit his lip, not sure what else to say. This was the most vulnerable Grillby had ever seen his friend, and he wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay. He settled on brushing the hair out of his face. 

Sans shuddered, a few more tears dripping down his cheeks.

“S-Sorry.”

“Shh, none of that. Do you think you can go back to bed, or do you need to stay here?”

In response, Sans shifted, sluggishly attempting to lift himself up. Grillby was quick to help him, and the two slowly made their way back to Sans’s room.

Papyrus came in just after his brother had gotten settled under the covers, and Sans visibly relaxed at seeing the younger.

“I-I made you some tea.” He cradled the mug in both hands, walking carefully over to the bed.

Sans smiled at him, wiping his face. “Thanks, bud. I feel better already.” He took a small sip of the tea and set it on the nightstand. 

“I thought you were done getting sick like this!” Papyrus blurted out. His bottom lip quivered as he took in his brother’s state.

“I’m okay Paps, jus’ the flu.”

The fourth grader sniffled a bit, then nodded, still looking upset. Sans reached out and squeezed his hand before turning back to Grillby, who spoke before he could even open his mouth.

“You’re welcome, Sans, and don’t even think about apologizing.”

The shorter teen grinned. “Y’know me too well.” He breathed in deeply. “I think ‘m ready for another nap, and Ga-” he made a subtle face. “Dad should be home in a coupla hours.” Even as he said it he was beginning to nod off, the terror from earlier subsiding.

“I guess I should get going then,” Grillby said. “Let me know if you need anything, both of you.” He sent what he hoped was a comforting smile to Papyrus, who gave a small wave back. It seemed Sans had already fallen asleep.

With one last look back, Grillby left the room, trying and failing to suppress the concern that was sure to plague him all night.

“Feel better, Sans.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! We're getting close to the climax, guys! Just you wait ;)
> 
> So, I've actually been thinking pretty seriously about writing a sequel after this is finished... would anyone be interested in reading more? I think there's definitely room for development with these characters.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 11! See you all soon.


	12. Differentiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This whole thing is really getting to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please heed the tags!

“I never did take you for a begging man, Dr. Roman.” Mr. Amal looked into the doctor’s eyes, face as impassive as always. 

“A few more weeks, Amal. It is near completion but there are further tests I need to conduct-”

“Then you best conduct them quickly.”

Gaster sighed. “The process is progressing more rapidly than it should be already. I am… concerned that rushing things will cause irreversible damage to S- to the subject. However heightened its response may be, the body still requires time to heal.”

“Dr. Roman, am I correct in assuming you have never experienced war?”

He hesitated, taken aback. “...that would be correct.”

“Our enemies grow stronger every day, and their attacks are ceaseless. We are falling behind, and we are paying in blood. You have not seen the violence; you cannot comprehend the sheer amount of pain and suffering your own people endure on your behalf. Death waits for no man, Dr. Roman, and our soldiers do not have the luxury of time. Do you understand?”

The two stared at each other, faces unreadable and unwavering. There was only one way this would go, and they both knew it.

“I understand.”

* * *

After a night (and most of an afternoon) of rest, Sans was feeling a lot better. The queasiness and shaking were long gone, and while there was still a mild pain in his head, he was able to get out of bed and walk to the kitchen without a problem.

“Ah, Sans, I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

Sans jolted in surprise, frowning when he saw Gaster sitting at the table with Papyrus, who smiled happily at the sight of his brother up and about. That was strange. Gaster almost always left for work early in the morning, before either of his sons were even awake.

The change in routine was foreboding. 

“Uh, hi. Why are you still here?” he asked cautiously.

The man looked at him fondly, an expression that would have made him feel calm and safe a few years back. Now all he felt was longing and a slowly deepening sense of dread.

“The school called yesterday to let me know you were ill. You had a fever when I got home to check on you, and Papyrus told me you really weren’t doing well at all. I’m going to work from home today, stay with you to make sure you’re alright.”

A chill ran down Sans’s spine. “Thanks, but I’m actually feeling a lot better this morning -- I was planning on going back to school today. Plus, I need to give Paps a ride.”

“Please, Sans, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. You look exhausted; you need another day of rest to get you back on your feet. I can get Papyrus to and from school.”

Gaster’s voice was kind, but his face held a degree of sternness that told Sans he wouldn’t be winning this one. There wasn’t a choice in the matter. There never was.

“Okay. Who am I to pass up a chance to be lazy?” he winked at Papyrus. “Napping’s my dream job, after all.”

Papyrus groaned at the pun, shooting his brother a mock glare. “I just want to eat my oatmeal in peace. That is all I want.”

That kid could make a statue smile. “That’s all you want? You sure?” Sans teased.

“Yes.”

“Not even a goodbye hug from your big bro?”

“No. Not when you ruin breakfast with your blasphemy.” 

Sans raised an eyebrow. “Blasphemy, huh? You wound me, Paps. Guess I’d better head back to my room then.”

He made it a whole five steps before being tackled from behind, a sort of firm yet gentle embrace that Papyrus had perfected as soon as he could walk.

“Oof. You had me fooled there for a second.”

Papyrus laughed gleefully as his brother returned the hug. “Japed again!”

“You got me. You’re so cool, bro, you know that?”

Sans wrapped his arms around him a little tighter, studiously ignoring Gaster as he watched them from his seat at the table with a soft smile.

Soon enough the others had left for the elementary school, leaving Sans with a small window of free time before what was bound to be a day full of poking and prodding. His first thought was to text Grillby.

  
\- hey g. im home today  
\- feel mostly better tho  
\- thx for yesterday  


\- I’m glad you’re feeling better! You definitely weren’t doing too hot, so it’s nice to hear you’re taking care of yourself.

  
\- according 2 the thermometer i was doing pretty hot  


\- Oh my god. Go to bed.

  
\- u walked right into that  
\- also speaking of bed  
\- im so good at sleeping  


\- I’m aware

  
\- i can do it w my eyes closed  
\- in fact i could probs do it in my sleep  
-grillbz  
-grillbY  
-u have been typing for a whole ass minute i can see the ...  
\- should i b scared  
\- dont leave me hangin  
\- ill have nightmares about what u r thinking  
\- u kno  
\- when im sleeping in my bed  


\- Jesus Christ

  
\- o hay there u r  
\- didnt kno u were a religious man  
\- did u hear abt the guy who wanted 2 take communion by injection  
\- they didnt let him  
\- bc u rnt supposed to take the lords name in vein  
\- tho i guess in this case itd be his body  
\- y tf do ppl eat the flesh of their god anyway thats nasty  


\- Oh wow look at that. The bell’s already ringing. How time flies.

  
\- i have so many good clock jokes. u wanna kno how time flies  


\- Goodnight Sans

  
\- aw cmon g its morning  


\- Sleep.  
\- See you tomorrow?  
\- If you’re feeling better

  
\- ofc  


Sans was still smiling like a doof when Gaster walked back in the door. He stayed in the kitchen, an expression on his face that Sans couldn’t quite place. They stood there for a few moments, neither sure what to say.

“It was… difficult, seeing you so ill,” Gaster began. “It reminded me of when you were younger.”

“Yeah, I bet it was real hard for you.”

Gaster sighed, leaning against the table and looking for all the world like he had aged ten years in a night. “I love you, my son, and it is incredibly hard to see someone you love suffer.”

That actually got a laugh out of Sans. “Oh, is it now? You could’ve had me fooled.” He grinned ruefully, waiting for the anger and manipulation that were sure to follow.

Instead, Gaster simply ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I began this project independently. It was supposed to be just for you, something to make you strong enough that you wouldn’t have to be so damn careful all the time. I didn’t… I never meant for it to turn into this.”

Maybe Gaster had told him that, once upon a time, but hearing it now made his eyes grow hot. He squeezed them shut, pushing the tears back. He’d given up on the pretext that any of this was for his benefit long ago, and he thought his father had as well. This wasn’t about them anymore. It never had been.

“But you let it,” he choked out. “You let yourself be bought out, you let them make all the calls, you let me-” Sans cut himself off, angrily wiping at the tears that managed to slip down his cheeks. “We could stop, you know,” he said quietly. “This doesn’t- it doesn’t have to go any further. We don’t have to do this.”

His words hung heavy in the air. For a long while Gaster said nothing, and Sans almost let himself hope that maybe this would be it.

“You know we do. We can’t afford to be selfish. Not now.”

And Sans couldn’t find it in himself to feel upset, or disappointed or afraid or anything. It didn’t matter what he said or what he did. This was just how it was. He turned around.

“Let’s get on with it then,” Sans said, making his way down to the basement.

* * *

It was a regular physical examination. Gaster ran some bloodwork, tested Sans’s reflexes, took his vitals, listened to his heart, and that was pretty much it. Neither of them said much, just routine questions and one-word answers.

After they finished, Sans went back upstairs, did some homework, ate lunch, then slept until dinner. He didn’t understand why there hadn’t been any more tests, why there wasn’t any new pain, but he didn’t question it.

Things seemed normal again in the morning. Gaster was gone by the time Papyrus and Sans were up, and the brothers enjoyed a peaceful breakfast together. They teased each other on the ride to school and went on with the day.

Physically, Sans felt fine. Nothing hurt too bad, at least. Emotionally, he felt… content? Resigned, maybe.

He met up with his friends in the commons before class began, listened to Nico’s updated version of “Spookwave,” and debated with Alice on the merits of string theory. Sans sat next to Grillby, as had become habit, and did his best not to blush when their hands brushed together.

Classes were fine; he turned in old assignments and received new ones, caught up on what he missed, and didn’t even sleep through precalc.

When school let out he picked Papyrus up and listened as he spoke animatedly about his day. They went home, had a snack, did homework, and ate dinner.

Everything was normal. Good, even.

Gaster beckoned him downstairs at 7:00 sharp. The injection hurt a little more than usual, but not as bad as last time. He asked the usual questions, took his vitals, then strapped Sans into a chair and everything came crashing back down.

Things weren’t normal, and they certainly weren’t good. He and his father hadn’t reached a common ground, and they were never going to stop.

“Oh great, I love the straps. They come with such good memories.” He smirked at Gaster, who said nothing.

“What fun do we get to partake in today?”

As an answer, Gaster took his hand and bent it sharply backward in one swift motion. Sans choked on his breath, letting out a surprised yelp.

“Little warning next time?” he panted out through gritted teeth.

“Four years ago that would have shattered your radius. Now it shouldn’t be more than a mild sprain.” He retrieved a roll of bandages from the cupboard. “Ice it tonight, and cover it with a plastic bag when you shower. Your dominant arm is fine, so you shouldn’t have any issues going about daily functions. Wear long sleeves at all times until the bandage comes off and the bruising goes away.”

Once Gaster had finished wrapping the injury, Sans carefully slid his hoodie back on, doing his best not to jostle his wrist. It was definitely tender and would probably hurt like a bitch in the morning, but he had expected a lot worse when he found himself back in that goddamned chair. At this point a sprained wrist hardly phased him.

“Looks like I’ll have to take a few days off from my rigorous exercise routine. I better not lose any of this impeccable muscle definition.”

“...I’m sure everyone at the gym will miss you.”

Was that a joke? Wow. And here Sans was under the impression that Gaster’s sense of humor had long since been abandoned.

“Oh they will. I’ve been told I’m quite a delight to squat with.”

Gaster huffed. Sans considered it a win.

“Goodnight Sans. I love you.”

“Yup. Can’t wait to do this again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, et cetera.” With that, he trudged back to his room.

* * *

They were messing around with microscopes in biology on Thursday. Alice and Sans had quickly discarded whatever the original objective was in favor of examining anything they could find that was small enough to fit under the lens.

“You definitely have lice,” Sans said as he peered through the eyehole at a strand of his partner’s hair. Alice shoved at his shoulder.

“No, seriously. You’re infested. Guess we better start calling you A-lice.”

“Shut up. If anyone has l-lice it’s Jerry.”

Sans grinned at her. “True.”

She shoved him again for good measure. “Okay, m-my turn. Move your ass.”

He obliged, wondering faintly why they were switching seats every time the other wanted a look instead of just moving the microscope. 

Alice squinted one eye and leaned over the instrument, adjusting the knobs to get the image into focus.

“This w-would be a lot more interesting if the science department actually had f-funding. These microscopes are shit.” She paused in her knob-adjusting as a thought occurred to her. “You ever g-get to use any good microscopes when you work w-with your dad?”

The question caught Sans off guard. He actually had used a pretty nice microscope, back at the lab in Colorado. It was before they started the project, back when Papyrus was a baby and Gaster would pay their neighbor to babysit the youngest while he took Sans to the lab for a few hours on a weekend. His dad would show him different tools, let him look at old slides under one of his state-of-the-art microscopes. Sometimes they would even conduct small “experiments,” simple things they could have done in the kitchen at home but instead got to do at a laboratory like real scientists. He had loved those outings. They were what first got him interested in science.

“Sans?”

He glanced up to see Alice staring at him. 

“Heh, sorry. Tried to figure out a good pun, but I think I used them all up on Paps this morning.”

She continued staring at him, tilting her head. It was kind of freaky. When was the last time she blinked?

“I-I used to have a r-really hard time at school, when I w-was younger,” she started, quiet yet earnest. “The idea of t-talking to so many new p-people terrified me, and s-some of the other kids would make f-fun of me for it.” Alice paused, fidgeting with a hair band.

She continued before Sans could figure out what to say. “E-Eventually one of my teachers recommended to my p-parents that I see a counselor. I hated it, b-but over time things s-started to get easier.” Alice went quiet again, cheeks flushed and eyes averted.

“That’s… that’s good,” said Sans. “I’m really glad things got better for you. But if you’re implying that I should see a therapist, I’m gonna tell you right now that that’s not happening.”

Rolling her eyes, she looked back up at him. “That’s not what I’m s-saying, Sans. I’m not telling you to g-go to therapy, I’m just… I-I want you to know that you’re n-not alone. Sometimes things really s-suck, and I… I g-get it, okay? I get it.”

His mouth quirked up. Sans was proud of her, he really was -- it was obvious that she had come so far, and here she was, sharing her troubles with Sans of all people. But why tell him? Why now? A quick glance down told him his wrist was still covered… was he acting weird? Did she think something was up?

“Thank you,” he said softly, electing to put those worries away for the time being. “You’re a really good friend, Alice.”

She smiled back at him, then punched him in the shoulder in a way that was incredibly reminiscent of her girlfriend.

“Yeah I am. Don’t y-you forget it, either.”

Luckily enough, the bell rang right as she said that, the sudden rush to put materials away and grab their bags enough to distract Alice from seeing the wince Sans couldn’t quite hide. He had been right about his wrist being tender, and however unintentional it was, the Udaya-punch Alice dealt had shaken his bad arm just enough to hurt.

* * *

That evening, Gaster bent his wrist back again. It was agonizingly slow. Sans couldn’t keep from crying out this time around as he felt his ligaments tear. Gaster stopped before the bone could break, but the damage had been done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go! More of this special hell. Buckle in my dudes.
> 
> Thank you all for the feedback! A sequel of some sort is definitely in the works and I will keep you posted. Let me know if there's anything in particular you would like to see explored!


	13. Hold Your Breath and Count to Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited to share this chapter with you all! Remember to buckle in, folks. Additional trigger warnings are listed in the end notes, though they won't be applicable until after the very last line break, or after "The afternoon went by nice and slow." 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

A relatively large amount of things happened in a relatively short amount of time. No, that wasn’t quite right. The things that occurred weren’t altogether unique in quantity, it was more that they were overwhelmingly substantial and life-altering. Whatever. Semantics.

First, Friday.

It happened after the final bell. Papyrus had an assembly after school that wouldn’t let out for close to an hour, meaning Sans had some time to kill before he needed to pick him up. He walked with Grillby to the parking lot as per usual, planning to chat with his friend as long as possible and then go back inside to play on his phone in the commons or something. Instead, Grillby decided to test the coefficient of static friction of an icy patch on the ground.

“Shit!” His foot flew out in front of him as he slipped, head on a direct route to the cold, hard concrete.

Sans grabbed for him. It was an incredibly awkward move, what with their rather considerable height difference and San’s slightly-better-than-broken wrist, but he was able to stop Grillby from splitting his skull open without snapping his own bone in the process. The two stared at each other, eyes wide and hearts racing, Grillby clumsily bent backward into Sans’s stiff arms.

“Wow G, looks like you fell for me.” 

Jesus Christ. Did he really just say that? Sans was tempted to let his friend fall the rest of the way on the off chance he’d get a concussion and forget the last few seconds.

“Um, I mean, uh-” he sputtered, grasping for a way to take back what he said without intentionally causing head trauma.

“I think I fell for you a while ago,” Grillby blurted out, rushing over his words. 

Sans’s already careening mind completely derailed at that. He gawked at the other, stupefied, before remembering something.

“Are you talking about when we ran into each other in the hallway? Heh, good one, I’ll have to write that down.”

Grillby rolled his eyes even as his cheeks continued to redden. “I’m going to stand up now.” He lifted himself off of Sans only to clutch his arm (the good one, thankfully) when he slipped again.

“Careful, it’s icy.” 

“Yeah, I was able to figure that out for myself.” His second attempt went much better with Sans helping him up. “And…” he paused to take a deep breath. “I wasn’t talking about that time in the hallway.” He fixed his eyes firmly on the ground.

Holy shit. “You… I… really? I mean… y-yeah. Me too. I think?” That didn’t really make sense, but he was too jittery to try again.

Lifting his gaze to meet Sans’s, Grillby (should he really refer to him by that ridiculous nickname at a time like this? What kind of time was this anyway?) grinned nervously. 

“You sure do have a way with words. Does- Does this mean…?”

God this was a mess. A beautiful mess, one whose words Sans had secretly been waiting to hear for longer than he cared to admit, but a mess nonetheless. In a stunning display of emotional maturity, he suggested a way to clean it up that was a lot healthier than he normally expected of himself.

“We should probably talk about this,” he said, unable to keep a matching grin from spreading across his face. Grillby looked relieved to see it, as if he’d been afraid his feelings weren’t reciprocated. As if.

They ended up sitting in Sans’s car, both waiting for the other to speak first. 

“So. I like you. And you like me?” Oh good, they didn’t have to wait long. Grillby sure wasn’t pulling any punches, though.

Sans did his best to push the fluttering in his chest to the back burner. “I think you got it in one, G.” He felt heat rising to his cheeks again. Was this supposed to feel so awkward? “I really like you,” he continued quietly. “I think I have for a while, and… now that we’re talking about it, it’s kind of terrifying?”

“I know what you mean,” Grillby replied, just as soft. He looked more embarrassed than Sans felt, which was oddly reassuring. 

Perhaps it was emboldening as well. “Do I get to call you my boyfriend now?”

“That depends, do I get to call you mine?”

This was disgustingly cheesy. Sans loved it.

“But, um…” Grillby trailed off, looking almost pained and consequently making Sans about eight times more nervous than he already was. Shit, was he going too fast? He should have waited to ask about the whole boyfriend thing.

“You should know that I’m bi,” he continued, “and that my last relationship was with a girl.” 

Oh thank god. That meant Sans hadn’t screwed up yet, right? Whatever Grillby suddenly seemed worried about wasn’t his fault, probably, so they should be able to work it out, right? Jeez, he really did look worried. If Sans hadn’t put that look on his face, what had?

While pondering over this, he accidentally forgot to respond. The silence only made Grillby more distressed.

“I’m sorry. I led you on, I should have told you-”

“Wait, wait, what?” He was utterly baffled, thoughts racing as he worked to make sense of what Grillby was saying.

“Shit, I messed up, I’m so sorry Sans.” His voice wavered as he shut his eyes, oblivious to the other’s mounting confusion.

Sans blinked a few times, going over the past minute and trying to pinpoint what exactly had caused the conversation to take this turn. “Uh… what?” Still eloquent as ever.

“I should leave,” Grillby said in a voice barely above a whisper. He reached for the door handle and Sans panicked, grabbing his shoulder. 

“Sean, wait! What’s going on? Why are you sorry?” 

The misery on his face morphed into a hesitant sort of surprise. “I’m bisexual,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, you said you dated someone before. Did it not go well or something? Are you still getting over her? Because believe me when I say we can take this slow, or not at all if you aren’t ready yet or if you aren’t sure you want this-” He was cut off by laughter from the passenger seat. Sans couldn’t help but feel slightly offended. Did he say something stupid? He wasn’t exactly an expert on relationships, but he thought he was being reasonable.

“You don’t care that I’m bi?”

“Why the hell would I care if you’re bi? Do you care that I’m gay?”

“Oh my god. You’re being serious right now, aren’t you.” It wasn’t said like a question, but Sans felt compelled to answer if only to defend himself in the wake of his apparent ignorance.

“Of course I’m being serious! Mind telling me what’s so funny? I usually don’t miss a joke, but I’m pretty sure whatever’s happening is going completely over my head.”

Sean smiled warmly at him, easing the slight frustration that had started to build. “Sorry, sorry, I was just… really scared there for a second. I thought you wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who isn’t just attracted to guys.”

Was that something people actually cared about? Weird. 

“Look, Sean, your feelings are valid and I’m sure you have a good reason for worrying about that, but, no offense, that’s one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard.”

“And that’s one of the best things I’ve ever heard,” he said sweetly, looking for all the world like he was seeing the sun for the first time. “Now that that’s out of the way, Sans Roman?”

It was strange, hearing Sean say his full name, but not in a bad way. “Yes?”

“Will you go on a date with me?”

* * *

Sans watched his friend -- his boyfriend, and he honestly couldn’t believe he got to call him that now -- in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot. The alarm on his phone had gone off before they had the chance to talk much more, and Sans kind of felt like an asshole for suddenly leaving after, well, after all that, but Sean had assured him it was fine. 

He tried to school his features into a more neutral expression during the drive and failed completely, somehow unwilling or unable to keep the goofy smile off his face. It was damn near impossible to even think coherently with all the happiness and excitement and whatever those other emotions were swirling around inside him. Papyrus could immediately tell something was up.

“Your face is doing that thing again,” he said before the door was even shut. There was no small talk to be had with this kid.

Sans couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He gasped. “Did you hold hands with Grillby again?”

Huh. Head of nail, meet Papyrus. “Nope.”

Papyrus visibly slumped, his entire form radiating disappointment. “Oh,” he said sadly. 

“We did decide to go on a date, though.”

The younger took a second to process this before squealing at a volume that just wasn’t meant for small enclosed spaces. “Really?! You really did?!” He didn’t wait for confirmation. “Wowie! I can help you get all ready for it! Where are you going? What will you be doing? Do you need help choosing an outfit? Of course you do you dress like a slob. Don’t worry Sans, I will make sure you have the best date ever! Dad can take pictures on his good camera so you can keep them forever and then show them at your wedding and-”

“Woah, woah, hold your horses Paps,” Sans chuckled. “We’re taking this slow, alright? We haven’t even planned anything out yet, we literally talked about this 10 minutes before I picked you up.”

“You mean I am the first person you told?” There were stars in his eyes.

“Duh. I… don’t want to tell Dad quite yet. Can you keep this a secret for now? It’s kind of a big deal to me.”

Papyrus looked at him solemnly from his seat. “Do you think Dad won’t like it if you date a boy?”

His little brother was many things, but naive was not on that list. He was astute in the most surprising of ways, and even after almost a decade of living with him Sans still found himself blindsided by the sudden knowing tone Papyrus invoked. The possibility of Gaster being homophobic had never occurred to him.

It didn’t take long to reach a conclusion. Gaster hadn’t hesitated to use gender-neutral pronouns for Frisk, and living in Denver meant they saw a fair share of couples who presented as the same gender kissing in public. To Sans’s knowledge he had never so much as raised an eyebrow at them.

“Nah, I don’t think he’d care at all,” he answered honestly. Gaster could be a dick, but he wasn’t a bigot. “This is all still sinking in for me, though. I’m not really ready to tell anyone yet, you know?”

“That’s okay.” Something seemed to occur to Papyrus. “If you aren’t ready yet, why did you tell me?”

Sans looked away from the road long enough to smile at his brother. “Because there’s nobody in the whole world that I trust more than you, Papyrus.”

And no matter how things changed or how confusing it all got, that was a universal constant as far as Sans was concerned.

* * *

Then, Saturday. 

There hadn’t been much conversation last night during Sans’s checkup, what with Gaster his usual cold self and Sans in too good of a mood to bother antagonizing him. He had stayed up late talking to Grillby and planned to sleep until noon. Papyrus, however, had other ideas.

“SANS WAKE UP I HAVE TO BE AT FRISK’S HOUSE IN AN HOUR!”

He jolted awake, eardrums ringing. “Wha?”

“I need to be at Frisk’s house at one o’clock so that I won’t be late for the sleepover!”

“Aren’t sleepovers supposed to happen at night?” Sans’s face was still buried in the pillow, but he could feel his brother rolling his eyes.

“Sleepovers are about more than just sleeping, Sans.”

“You sure? That doesn’t seem right.”

A dramatic groan filled the room. “We are going sledding this afternoon, and then we are going to have a snack, and then we are going to play, and then we are going to have dinner, and then we are going to watch a movie, and then we are going to sleep.”

Sans yawned. “Sounds like fun.” Sitting up, he gazed blearily at Papyrus, who looked to be vibrating in place. “Why’d you have to wake me up so early though? You said we’ve still got an hour.”

“Sans, it is the afternoon.”

“Technically it’s just noon.”

“And you take forever to get out of bed.”

He considered this. “Yeah that’s fair.” Another yawn. “You ready for lunch?”

“Yes! Spaghetti!”

It was Sans’s turn to groan as he begrudgingly got up, sliding his sleeve down to cover the bandage on his wrist as he did so. As shitty as the circumstances were, he had to admit that it was healing remarkably fast. It was a bit of a relief after a childhood of bones quick to break and slow to mend.

“We’ve had spaghetti for the past two days, Paps, are you sure you don’t want something else?” It was a pointless question, he knew, but there was always the chance that Papyrus had suddenly developed a taste for variety.

“No.”

“No as in you’re not sure?”

“Sans.”

He sighed. “Fine. Spaghetti it is.”

Lunch was peaceful, Papyrus excitedly regaling his brother with the adventures he and his friends had planned. Despite the reheated noodles that were familiar to the point of tastelessness, Sans was always happy to see him so enthusiastic (the residual feelings from yesterday definitely didn’t put a damper on things, either).

Eventually they were on their way, address plugged into Sans’s phone -- Papyrus claimed to know the way, but he agreed it was a good idea to have a backup just in case. They arrived at their destination without incident and soon found themselves in front of a dark purple door that somehow suited the house. Sans knocked twice.

“Who is there?”

The brothers looked at each other in surprise. A wicked grin spread across Sans’s face when he caught on, and he answered before Papyrus could ruin the opportunity.

“Theodore.”

“Sans your name is not Theodore.”

“Theodore who?” asked the voice.

“Theodore wasn’t open so I figured I should knock.”

Raucous laughter and a scandalized noise of distress sounded from inside and outside the house respectively. Papyrus glared at him. The door opened then, revealing a woman who could only be described as motherly standing next to a child who was bouncing up and down.

“Oh my, that was wonderful! Hello, Papyrus. And you must be Sans. Frisk told me you enjoy a good joke.”

Papyrus muttered something about Sans having never told a good joke in his life, then wrapped him in a hug. “Bye Sans! See you tomorrow! I love you!” With that he and Frisk ran inside.

“Love you too, kiddo.” Sans fondly watched them disappear around the corner before turning back to the woman in the doorway. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms...”

She smiled kindly at him. “You can call me Tori. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure. It’s not everyday you meet someone with such a refined sense of humor.”

Tori laughed again, a sound bursting with comfort and warmth. She led Sans into the kitchen. “Sorry about the mess,” she said, wiping some spilled flour from the counter. “We weren’t expecting anyone for another half hour.”

“Shoot, really? I’m sorry. Paps said he had to be here by one, I didn’t realize-”

“Nonsense, Sans, I’m delighted you both are here! To be honest I don’t know if Frisk would have made it much longer -- they’ve been buzzing all day.”

“You sure it’s no trouble?”

She moved to stand across from him, leaning against the island. “Of course not. You are welcome here anytime you like, both of you.”

Sans flushed. “Thanks. Hey, are you baking something? It smells really good in here.”

The older woman smiled knowingly at the deflection. “Well, I am certainly glad to hear that! I’ve been working on a butterscotch-cinnamon pie for the children all morning. If you would like a piece, it should only be a few minutes before it has cooled enough to eat.”

The offer was tempting. Something about this house, about Tori and the messy kitchen and the sweet aroma of pie, felt so safe. It wouldn’t fit in his meal plan though, not so soon after he had eaten lunch, and he wasn’t willing to risk going off it again. Gaster had been agitated lately, almost volatile. It wasn’t worth it. 

“Thanks, but I should really be getting back soon. I wouldn’t want to intrude. Could I, um, give you my number? Papyrus knows it, but sometimes he stops talking if he gets upset, and I want to make sure he’s able to reach me if he needs me, you know?”

She looked at him with an expression Sans couldn’t quite place, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “Of course, Sans.” Tori handed him her phone. “You can put your number in.”

A few seconds after he returned it to her, Sans’s own phone vibrated.

 

\- Hello ]:-) 

 

“Now you have my number as well, just in case.” She began walking him back to the entryway.

“I like the smiley face, are those eyebrows?”

Tori snorted. “Ah, that’s supposed to be a goat. According to Frisk, I am the ‘Goat Mom,’ and they insist I use this emoticon in my texts.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “Why goat?”

“They say it stands for ‘Greatest of All Time,’ but I have my suspicions that this is part of some elaborate practical joke they’re playing.” She cast an affectionate glance to the stairs up which Frisk and Papyrus had disappeared.

“That’s pretty cute, Goat Mom. You’ll have to tell me the punchline if you’re right.” He pulled on his shoes and tried to ignore the sudden disappointment he felt at leaving.

“I’ll be sure to let you know. Drive safe, okay?”

“Will do. See you tomorrow, Tori.” He walked out onto the porch, heading for his car in the driveway.

“Sans?” He looked back. “Feel free to call if you ever need someone to tell knock-knock jokes with. And believe me when I say you could never intrude.” Tori waved and then stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

Sans couldn’t remember much about his mom, but he thought she and Tori would get along well if she were still alive.

* * *

The afternoon went by nice and slow. In hindsight, Sans hadn’t appreciated that enough.

He got his math homework out, messaged Grillby, considered doing some problems, messaged Grillby, took a nap, actually did some problems, got bored, then messaged Grillby again. Apparently he was babysitting his cousins for the day and couldn’t text very often, much less call, so Sans entertained himself by imagining a flustered Grillby chasing a bunch of orange-haired toddlers around the house whenever his messages were left unanswered. As much as the guy loved his sister, childcare wasn’t exactly his forte.

Sans was searching through the fridge for something to eat that wasn’t spaghetti when Gaster came home. He didn’t notice at first, too focused on convincing himself that he didn’t need to call Tori to ask if Papyrus was doing alright. Of course he was. Mike and Frisk were his best friends, and his brother was probably having the time of his life. He would call Sans if he needed anything; what Papyrus didn’t need was his older brother pestering him at his first sleepover. Did he?

“Sans.”

He jumped at the voice and whirled around. Gaster was standing behind him. “Jesus, Dad, I think you just sent me into cardiac arrest.”

Gaster didn’t say anything for a few moments, emotions flickering across his usually stoic features too fast for Sans to read. Finally, he gestured to the basement door.

“Um, you know it’s only five, right? We’ve still got two hours.”

“Today we will be conducting the final test.”

Sans froze, gaping at his father. “What?”

“My employers,” he began, face souring at the word, “are anxious for the project to reach completion. I would prefer more time to ensure all is working as expected, but they are unwilling to compromise. Injections will continue without increase, but the physical trials will conclude tonight.”

His heart was pounding, his mind in shock. They were going to be done? It was over? He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry or collapse in relief. It felt unreal that everything could be coming to an end.

“Are you serious?” Sans whispered, wary of the hope crawling its way up his chest.

Gaster nodded, then strode toward the basement stairs. For the first time in more than three years, Sans followed him down without the slightest sense of apprehension. Just one more, just one more and they would finally put this all to rest. No more increases, no more tests, no more hurting after tonight. It was about to be over.

He trailed after Gaster in a daze as he struggled to absorb this, letting the doctor take his vitals without a word. Sans didn’t flinch when the straps tightened around his wrist, he didn’t even care because this was the last time it was ever happening.

And then the chair tipped forward.

Weird, hadn’t it been screwed to the floor?

Sans’s face was suddenly submerged. That hope from before dissolved instantly as terror flooded in with the freezing cold water. He jerked his body, struggling as best he could in the restraints, doing everything possible to get his head back into the air.

It wasn’t enough, and Sans had never been more scared.

Whatever oxygen he had in his lungs was lost to his mounting panic. Not having air was pure agony, but some desperate instinct kept Sans from breathing in. 

He bucked against the strong hands holding him in place, but even in his hysteria he could feel his attempts losing strength. It was the worst feeling in the world, knowing you were about to die.

Sans’s lungs spasmed.

He gasped.

Water rushed in, filling his mouth and burning his nose. Suffocating him.

The roaring in his ears faded.

Then everything else faded, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm revamping my Tumblr, reflectionsofalex, so if you would like to ask or submit anything that you don't want to/can't write in the comments, feel free to visit me there!
> 
>  
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> *Abuse  
> *Drowning/water torture  
> *Death(?)  
> *Murder(?)


	14. 52-Card Pickup

Everything was hazy.

He woke up slowly, not sure what he was waking up from.

His chest hurt. A lot.

His throat burned. The air smelled like vomit.

A sound cut through. A voice.

“Sans? Are you awake? Can you hear me? Sans?” Over and over and over. 

He opened his eyes and part of the fog in his mind lifted. The voice was Gaster. He was breathing hard and dripping sweat, and he looked incredibly worried for a second before his face shifted into an expression of elation. 

Gaster laughed. “Ten minutes!” he cried, “Ten minutes of prolonged apnea followed by less than half an hour of basic cardiopulmonary resuscitation and you have regained consciousness! Do you know what this means, Sans? By all rights you should be dead, comatose at the very least. Ten minutes, my god. Sans, the project is a success!”

He continued talking, rambling really, but Sans couldn’t find the energy to absorb what he was saying. Moving his eyes around didn’t tell him much beyond the fact that he was on the floor and-

Oh. 

A nearby tub entered his field of vision. It was surrounded by puddles of water.

At the sight of it, everything hit at once. The tub, the water, the fear-

Sans panicked, adrenaline and terror striking through him like lightning. He struggled to get up from the ground, but wasn’t strong enough. He tried again. Wasn’t strong enough. He tried again. The third time, he succeeded. Sans stumbled up the stairs as fast as he could, feeling faint, chest throbbing. He made it to his room and collapsed against the bedside table.

Nothing made sense. Sans was shaking, hurting, his heart was racing and his ears were roaring. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe.

His phone rang.

Sans startled before the noise registered for what it was. He stared at the phone laying innocently on his bed then scrambled to pick it up, frantically grasping for a ground to reality. At one point he might have said he did this against his better judgement, but at this particular point he wasn’t really capable of any judgement at all.

The call was answered, somehow.

“Hey Sans! Sorry I haven’t really been able to talk today. My aunt and uncle just left, so I’m free now-”

He was cut off by a choked noise, somewhere between a cough and a desperate sob.

“Sans? What’s going on, are you okay?”

It took a few moments for his brain and mouth to cooperate. “Sean,” he said hoarsely, the name bringing a sort of comfort in the midst of the confusion and fear and pain whirling around him.

“I’m here. What’s going on?” Sean repeated, lighthearted demeanor now a fading memory.

No reply.

“Are you safe?”

No reply.

“Shit, Sans, please talk to me. Should I call 911?”

The response was immediate, automatic. Ingrained. “No.”

“Okay, then can you tell me where you are?”

“I-I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.”

“I know.” Sean sounded scared, too. “I’m getting in my car now, I’m coming. Are you at your house?”

He was beginning to calm down. Kind of. His thoughts were a little more coherent, his breaths stuttering a little less.

“Yeah.” His voice cracked as the reality of the situation started to sink in.

“Are you safe?”

Was Sean repeating himself a lot? A strangled laugh tore out of his throat, still burning like hellfire. “For the t-time being.”

“I’ll be at your house in five minutes, okay?” Some distant part of Sans considered the fact that at legal speeds the trip between their houses took double that time. “Don’t hang up.”

This was surreal. Everything was going fast and spinning out of control and it was all Sans could do to beat back the ugly storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

There was a knock at the door.

Sans went rigid, fear clawing its way back to the forefront of his mind. Sean said something over the phone. He turned the volume down and stayed quiet.

“Sans, come back downstairs.” Gaster sounded strange, like he was excited but too exhausted to really express it. “You can sleep on the cot, but I need to take your vitals and keep you overnight for observation.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at the looming, unlocked door. Hardly even the mirage of a barrier.

“Please Sans, don’t be obstinate. This is for your own good. We are both tired, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Sans didn’t move except to press himself back against the nightstand. He had never felt like this before, so scared of his own father, so out of control of everything happening around him.

It is important to note that, while large enough to host a research laboratory, Snowdin is still a fairly small town. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to walk from one side to the other. Nothing is too far away, including the police station. 

It is also important to note that when it comes to the people he cares about, Sean Bradigan doesn’t take chances.

Gaster stopped speaking when the sirens came within earshot. Everything went by in even more of a rush after that.

There were footsteps as Gaster walked away from his bedroom. A knock sounding from farther away. Voices, maybe, though who they were and what they said Sans didn’t know. Shouting, he definitely heard shouting, and then there were more sirens. Footsteps, again, this time getting closer. He didn’t move. Someone opened the door, came into his room, and then another person. He didn’t move. They approached him. He didn’t move.

His eyes slid shut. When they opened again, everything was loud and bright.

It was too much.

He was confused.

Sans didn’t understand what was happening. He couldn’t think.

His eyes slid shut.

* * *

What happened after that was complicated and maybe just a little bit frightening, so Sans found it in his best interest to not pay anything much attention.

He was in a hospital, the emergency room, that much was clear, and his room seemed to be perpetually filled with people in scrubs and people in suits. They all spoke to him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to respond (or even listen, for that matter). Everything was just… it was all so, so fast, and he couldn’t keep up. The second he attempted to process one thing the world was on to the next, and his brain soon decided that shutting down would be the easiest way to deal with that.

Nobody was supposed to know about the project, not yet. It seemed that suddenly everyone did, though, and Sans just wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

So, when he wasn’t feigning sleep, he stared at the wall, or the carpet, or the iv drip pumping painkillers through his system, or the door. He stared at the door quite a bit, waiting for somebody. It was still up for debate who that somebody was.

After a few hours of this, that somebody walked through the door. The newcomer gazed at the room’s current resident, trembling, before a sob ripped its way out of their throat and they raced to the bed.

Papyrus climbed up as quickly as he dared. Sans jolted out of his stupor and stared at his brother with wide eyes.

“Pap-” He wasn’t even able to finish saying his name before small arms wrapped around him. Sans automatically hugged back, burying his face into his brother’s shoulder and absently rubbing circles on his back.

Papyrus’s voice shook as he tightened his embrace.“Are you okay?”

Sans smiled, just a little. He still didn’t know what was going on, he was still goddamned terrified, but Papyrus was here now.

“I am now.”

They stayed like that for some time, but Papyrus had never been one to keep quiet.

“What happened?” he asked, leaning away from his brother just enough to be able to see his face. There was something in the kid’s voice that made Sans’s heart ache terribly.

Was this something it was acceptable for big brothers to lie about? “What did they tell you?” That seemed safe enough for now.

Papyrus sniffled. “Dad called Ms. Tori and told her you were here.” More tears rolled down his face. “I talked to him and he said he was s-sorry.”

Trying his best to will away the numb feeling that was settling over him, the kind of numb that wasn’t at all physical, Sans glanced at the doorway. It was empty.

“She wasn’t allowed to come in because she isn’t family,” Papyrus explained quietly, rare contractions giving away just how badly his sense of equilibrium had been upended. “Neither was Grillby.”

Sans blanched. “Sean’s here?” he asked incredulously. 

The sadness and worry written across Papyrus’s face was momentarily replaced with confusion. “Who is Sean?”

“What? That’s Grillby’s name.”

“But I thought Grillby was his name.”

“His real name, Paps.”

Papyrus blinked. “Oh. I forgot he had one of those.”

Maybe it was the shock of everything that had transpired, or maybe it was something else, but Sans found that absurdly funny. He chuckled, then outright laughed. Papyrus seemed torn between indignation and relief at the reaction.

“Well, you never- oh.” He delicately touched the fresh bandage wrapped around Sans’s wrist. “Are you here because you hurt your arm?”

Sans sighed. “Kind of,” he murmured before breaking out into a yawn. Lucidity was exhausting and despite the morphine everything was starting to hurt again. He settled back into the scratchy hospital pillows and proclaimed it naptime.

“Sans, it is 10 o’clock at night.”

“Sounds like the perfect time for a nap.”

“It’s not a nap if it’s nighttime.”

“Don’t care.”

Papyrus squawked as the covers were pulled over both of them. “I think there are more important things to do than sleep right now!”

“Too late,” mumbled Sans, already drifting off. 

“I don’t like being in the same bed as you,” Papyrus huffed. “You always kick me and steal the blankets.” 

It wasn’t long before they were both sound asleep.

The clouds had been building for years. The storm was finally unleashed, and nobody could tell when the rain might stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as everything falls apart it all begins coming together. One chapter to go.
> 
> Thank you all so much for being patient! This chapter was supposed to be published a couple weeks ago but I was travelling for work for a good portion of July and unfortunately wasn't able to upload it. It's a bit shorter than usual, but sometimes that's how it be. You know how it is.
> 
> See you on the flip side!


	15. The Odds Mean Nothing if You Choose Not to Look

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATTENTION: this is soft. 
> 
> That is all.

_One Month Later_

Sans was contemplating probability. From the Big Bang to the birth of the sun to Cleopatra to now, everything that had happened in the universe happened by chance, by an imperceptible role of the dice. Sans didn’t believe in a god or in fate, he believed in the random nature of the fabric of reality.

It was times like this, however, that really made him wonder.

If everything in the universe was completely random, if there was no divine set of zeros and ones in control, then how in the _goddamn hell_ had he ended up in a relationship with someone as relentlessly patient as Sean Bradigan? It just seemed a bit too improbable.

“I mean it. I’m going to talk about it. With you. Today.” 

Sean just sent him a soft smile and stroked his thumb across the back of Sans’s hand, because holding hands was a thing they did now. It was nice. Very nice.

“I just…” he paused, trying to figure out his next words. They didn’t come. Sans groaned in frustration, pulling his hands away so he could bury his face in them. He had been so sure it was time, that he was finally ready, and here he was, botching the whole thing up yet again.

This conversation had played out in a very similar fashion multiple times before. Sans tried to tell him everything in the hospital, tried to tell him in between the doctors and lawyers and police, tried to tell him after he and Papyrus had been shown into their new home.

That was a whole other thing. Neither of them had quite wrapped their heads around it yet.

Sean shifted next to him. “It’s okay,” he murmured, “we don’t have to do this today. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.” He reached over and wrapped an arm around Sans. 

_God. Fucking. Damn it._

Although he knew he shouldn’t, knew it wasn’t fair to keep soaking up affection when he couldn’t even offer a simple explanation, Sans found himself leaning in, resting his head against a shoulder that was looking incredibly inviting.

“What if I’m never ready?”

The response was immediate. “I’ll still be here.”

This was ridiculous. 

“This is ridiculous,” Sans said. “I’m being ridiculous. It’s been a month and I’m still making a huge deal out of it. I don’t know why-” he cut himself off abruptly, squeezing his eyes shut against the hot prickling that was building up behind them.

Sean hugged him tighter, resting his chin utop the other’s head. “You are not being ridiculous. You are not blowing anything out of proportion. You’re allowed to go at your own pace, Sans.” His voice was steady, but Sans could feel the emotion behind it.

“Whenever I try to talk about it, it’s like there’s some kind of… of block, that’s in the way.” He drew in a shuddering breath, pressing in closer despite himself. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. Not fair to make you be my therapist.”

He could feel Sean’s eye roll, even though his own eyes were still closed. “I’m not ‘dealing’ with you, doofus. I want to support you because I care about you; don’t pretend you don’t do the same for me. How’s that for fair? Besides, you already have a therapist.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. The guy keeps making me tea and I don’t know how to tell him I don’t like chamomile.”

Sean chuckled at that, settling back against the wall. They were sat on the bed in Sans’s new room, basking in the sun as it glinted off the snow and danced through the window. It was almost May. In terms of weather, Minnesota was officially worse than Colorado.

The room had once been the guest room in Tori Dreemurr’s house. Now it was his. Papyrus shared a room with Frisk who, to their credit, seemed unphased by the abrupt acquisition of two new foster siblings. Papyrus was definitely still adjusting to the change in environment and absence of his father but was delighted to have a sleepover with Frisk every night. 

Again, they were still waiting for it to fully sink in. 

“Has there been talk about when the trial might be?” Sean spoke carefully, like he always did when Gaster came up. It was bound to get irritating in the future, but at present it was welcomed.

“Nah, not yet. It’s a federal case, so based on when this whole thing got started they should have at least a year before the statute of limitations runs out. The preliminary hearing was waived so the next step’ll be getting an indictment. Apparently grand juries pretty much always indict, so at this point it’s just a game of waiting for the trial to be scheduled. God knows how long that’ll take.” He had learned a lot about the United States legal system in the past few weeks. Maybe he should sign up for AP Government.

Sean hummed in acknowledgement, absently running his hand up and down Sans’s arm. Yeah, this whole “physical affection” deal was certainly something he could get used to.

“Sans?”

“Hm?”

“You’re shaking.”

“Hm.” 

Unbidden, the prickling behind his eyes returned in full force while some unholy amalgamation of guilt and shame roiled in his stomach. He wasn’t sure where exactly this feeling was coming from, but it was getting overwhelming really quickly.

An anxious buzzing filled his ears and a sound that was disgustingly close to a whimper escaped his lips. It would have been embarrassing if he could just take back control of his mind. Sans hunched in on himself, suddenly, confusingly scared. He registered Sean’s gentle voice somewhere beyond the static and tried to focus, tried to let it wash away everything else.

“It’s alright, Sans, you’re safe. I’m here, you’re not alone. You’re safe. It’s alright.” Sean repeated the words like a mantra.

“I’m sorry,” Sans gasped. “Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry.” His own mantra.

Sean reached out but stopped before making contact. “Are you okay with being touched right now?” There was a nod and then he was wrapping Sans into a hug.

“I’m s-”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize, not for this. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His arms tightened as Sans grasped at the back of his shirt, uncomfortable with the vulnerability but desperate for the support. He didn’t have the energy to hold the tears at bay anymore.

They stayed like that as the sun crossed the sky, Sans riding out the influx of emotions, Sean apparently with him for the long haul. Tori had taken Papyrus, Frisk, and Mike to the park for the day, so the two were left undisturbed. 

After a while, the sickening clamor in his head grew tired. His breathing steadied to match Sean’s and thoughts of tomorrows felt less like knives twisting into his chest.

Sans wiped at his face when he felt he could speak again. “He’s been having a hard time, you know.” 

“Who has? Papyrus?”

“Yeah. D-Ga-” Sans growled and sought a different route. “We haven’t really… gone into detail, I guess, about everything that was going on, but I think he’s trying to figure out how he’s expected to react.” And this, this was within his comfort zone. Papyrus was safety. “He loves Dad a lot, and Dad loves him, too. And… and me.”

Neither spoke, neither so much as twitched. Neither had expected this much to be said, and neither were willing to disrupt the tentative rhythm that had been established.

“That’s what he said, at least,” Sans mumbled. “Always told me how much he _loves_ me.” The word made his tongue feel dry. “You wanna know something funny?”

A noncommittal noise came from the back of Sean’s throat. It sounded like he hadn’t meant to make any sound at all, though the hand resting against Sans’s back took to rubbing soothing circles once again.

Sans swallowed, mulling over his next words. “I used to believe him, but now I just don’t know. And it’s funny ‘cause I don’t know if I love him, either.” 

A moment passed, and then another. He lifted his head from where it had been resting against Sean’s chest, surprised to see a tear sliding down his face. Before his friend (because they were more than friends now but that friendship was still there and he was starting to think it might always be) could move to wipe it away himself Sans was brushing a thumb against the wet stain on his cheek.

Sean leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “It’s hard,” he whispered, and something in his voice wordlessly spoke of a weary understanding. “I mean, he’s your dad, and maybe he’s done some really shitty things but it’s so hard to just hate him and move on.”

It felt like time jolted then, just for a second, but eternity enough for Sean to lift his head and cover Sans’s hand with his own.

“You don’t have to pick a side. Feelings aren’t supposed to be mutually exclusive. Trust me when I say it’s okay if your head’s a mess; you’ll work it out. We’ve got time.”

With its name evoked time stuttered onward, flowing gently around the bed as its occupants remained unaware of anything but each other.

Eventually they too would be swept up in that river, forced into its inexorable current as the waves and wind tirelessly pushed them under. That was a distant bridge, though. 

For now, there was peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It done.
> 
> Thank you all so much! All of your kind words and kudos mean so much to me, you have no idea. I've had a lot of fun writing this, and seeing other people enjoy it? Holy shit, that was astounding. Again, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this! You've all made me smile so much :)
> 
> On another note, these characters are definitely not finished (seriously--I had to put the last half of this chapter on hold so I could write a scene that wouldn't leave me alone). As of right now I think that rather than one perfectly linear tale the sequel will be more of a collection of stories about these two nerds and their friends figuring out life after all this nonsense. I'm always open to suggestions, though, so don't hesitate to share your thoughts!
> 
> Peace out homies.


End file.
